No Man's Land
by llnbooks
Summary: Welcome to a Daventry Hills where Never Fail never met and Maldark's invasion succeeded.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This one is the direct fault of the song that this story is named after (honestly, most of my fictions start with me innocently listening to a song that generates a plot bunny). I couldn't decide whether to post it or not, but it's not doing any good languishing here inside my computer. In case there's someone out there who might enjoy it, here it is._

_To those who had nice words about 'Grimferno' and to those who didn't review or e-mail but still enjoyed it, just know that you rock and are fully and whole-heartedly appreciated. _

_Side note to my wonderful readers from the "Pair of Kings" fandom: You all are also awesome and appreciated (alliteration anyone?), and I have received your requests for a sequel to 'Book of the Shaman'. Truthfully, I'm having trouble finding my muse for the fandom after this season's big change to show. I haven't even watched the new season. But, I will do my best to try for you._

_Disclaimer: I don't own 'Level Up', but I sure LOL watching it. I do own my original characters (not many this time out) and, as always, my typos (sorry)._

_Rating/Warnings: Strong T for violence, AU OOC behavior, more crude language than I'd normally use, mentions of sex (nothing much shown), and whump of pretty much everyone in varying degrees. It should also be noted for my epilogue purposes, I have written Lyle's father as a single dad._

_Pairings: Definitely, but I'm not telling who here. Gen._

**Level Up**

"No Man's Land"

_By llnbooks_

Prologue

_September 30, 2011_

It was a creature created for a singular purpose: Alter history in favor of its master by whatever means were required. After its task was complete, it would cease to exist. The robot avatar had no emotions to feel regret for the brevity of its existence or contentment when its purpose was finally accomplished.

The Doubleback had been programmed with the whole of Maldark's knowledge of its targets, Black Death, Wizza, and Sir Bickle. Its orders were simple: Using that knowledge, choose one target. Kill that human, if possible. If not, a permanent injury, an incarceration, an abduction, whatever was required to prevent the human from interfering with Maldark's plans to invade the human realm. Never Fail must never exist.

The human known as 'Black Death' was out of reach. A scan of his "blog" indicated he was two hundred miles away competing in something the humans called a 'Mathcathelon'. Traveling such a distance increased the risk of interference with its mission.

The Doubleback's counterpart had already tracked the human known as 'Sir Bickle' and would dispatch that game warrior.

The human called 'Wizza' was within reach. He would be the robot's target.

A disguise afforded the best chance for catching its target unaware while concealing its presence from the larger human population. It was not capable of caring if the people saw its true form, except that it might create a disturbance that would jeopardize the Doubleback's mission.

The humans took no undue notice of the last player in the Crosstown High line up as the football team ran onto the Trojans' football field. The helmet covered its shiny metallic head. The long sleeves and gloves hid its mechanical arms and hands. It scanned the faces of the rival players until it locked onto the one it sought.

_Wizza_.

The Doubleback lined up opposite the human boy, ducking its head so that Wizza would not see his face until it was much too late. Wizza took his place as what they called the 'quarterback'. The game leak targeted the areas of the human's body most vulnerable to lasting injury and decided it would shatter Wizza's knee. Such an injury would take sufficient time to heal that he would never recover in time to interfere with Maldark.

Before the ball was snapped into play, the Doubleback lunged…

**1**

_December 1, 2012_

Lyle had completely choked.

Reggie had snapped him the ball perfectly. Lyle moved into the perfect position for his throw, looked for Kowalski among the rushing players…and the next thing he knew, he had a face full of the Crosstown Tornadoes' linebacker. As he landed flat on his back with a bone-jarring thud, Lyle heard the referee blow his whistle. Seconds later, an air-horn sounded the end of the game. Daventry Hills Trojans 14, Tornadoes 21.

He laid there for a few seconds, somewhat hopeful that the ground might open up and swallow him. That was three times, three damn times in one game that Lyle had screwed up. Miserably, he noticed Mike and Kowalski and a few others of his teammates were glaring. Reggie looked worried. That was okay, Lyle was worried, too.

Involuntarily, Lyle's gaze was drawn to the bleachers, where his father sat. Maynard Hugginson was a politician, so he was quite good at keeping a stoic façade no matter what he was thinking. But, he was also Lyle's dad, and Lyle could have sensed his paternal disappointment if he were blindfolded in a blackout.

Sitting beside Mr. Hugginson, Wyatt was cringing. He forced a pitifully fake smile and thumbs up when he saw Lyle glance in his direction. Lyle shook his head. _Thank God Dante wasn't there to do his 'crash and burn' pantomime…_

Reggie at least gave him a hand climbing back to his feet. "No, no, no…Lyle, man, what was that?" he whisper-yelled as the team trudged off the field to the waiting lecture from Coach Farber. The spectators in the stands added a few comments that Lyle pointedly ignored.

"Turtle play?" Kowalski mimicked their quarterback lying on his back with the football in his hand, kicking like a tortoise stuck on its back.

Behind him, someone coughed what sounded like 'choke'. Lyle knew it was McCobb, irritating freaking Mike McCobb, second-string quarterback and general pain the butt. Lyle whirled, startling the other boy by suddenly standing toe-to-toe and eye-to-eye with him. "You got something to say? Think you can do better? Let me clue you in: Having the playbook memorized doesn't make you a quarterback, McCobb."

Reggie, Kowalski, and a few other players moved to stand behind Lyle. Mike's gaze briefly flicked from the quarterback to the other players. They'd been teammates for two years, and friends since middle school. Moreover, Lyle was the undisputed king of Daventry Hills High School. That had been McCobb, during his brief time as quarterback at Fairview High School before coming to Daventry Hills last year. Here, he was, the reserve quarterback who provided some amusement with his photographic memory but who was not allowed to snark on the team's hero no matter how badly Hugginson had stunk up the field that day.

_That didn't make Mike wrong. _He stood his ground. "Maybe not-but it does tell me we have a better chance of scoring if our quarterback actually throws the ball."

Lyle knew he needed to calm down. He backed away from McCobb, not bothering with a retort. He couldn't lose his temper this way, not in front of the guys and certainly not during a real game.

"That's enough! Everyone, hit the showers. Not you, Hugginson!" Farber was beckoning the quarterback with his 'a butt-chewing is a-coming' two-fingered wave. As the team somberly filed towards the locker room, shaking their heads and muttering under their breath, Lyle walked to the sidelines where Farber waited.

"Sorry, coach," he apologized, for what else could he say?

"Hugginson, take a knee."

Lyle rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Farber was gripping his clipboard so tightly that his fingers were losing circulation. "We have the Fulton High Falcons next week. Playoff game. Kind of a big deal. Scouts from five universities are going to be here."

_Like I needed reminding_, Lyle thought.

"I know it's a lot of pressure, but we've all got a lot riding on this game. Whatever's on your mind, whatever's twisting up your insides until you can taste your own intestines in the back of your throat…"

Lyle cringed at that mental picture.

"…whatever doubts you have, I just want to say…" Farber reached down and laid a hand on Lyle's shoulder, giving an encouraging squeeze. Then the calm façade popped like a balloon and the coach suddenly turned into a panicky, ashen-faced lunatic. "GET OVER IT! Do some yoga, for crying out loud! Meditate! Play your video games. But get over it! I need this game…I can't go back to coaching tee ball at the Y." Farber turned away, voice catching as the visions of small children whacking his shins with bats filled him with dread. "Please, Hugginson!"

He started to sob on Lyle's shoulder. Weirded out, Lyle patted his. "It's okay, coach…we got this. We'll be ready by next week." Carefully, he pried the coach off his shoulder and handed him a handkerchief. Predictably, the coach blew a headful of tears and mucus into the cloth. "Better?"

Farber nodded, forcing a smile although his voice still squeaked a bit with unshed tears. "Sorry. Lost my cool for a minute there. I'm good."

To Lyle's immense relief, the coach dashed off to have a private cry in his office.

"You know what happened out there, don't you, son?"

Lyle was glad his father had come up from behind, so he couldn't see his son wince in anticipation of the lecture that was coming. He already knew what his dad was going to say. He'd been cautioning Lyle about it all week.

He turned around to face the firing squad and answered: "I psyched myself out, overthinking instead of listening to my instincts."

Maynard folded his arms, nodding. "What are the three P's of success?"

Automatically, Lyle recited the words that had been drilled into him since his first day in kindergarten. "Plan. Prepare. Prevail."

"Exactly. When the scout from Notre Dame sees you play next week, he'll see the best quarterback in the country…perfect planning, perfect execution, perfect game. Jim Peterson is an old classmate from my days with the Fighting Irish. He's looking forward to seeing you play. This is what you've worked for and sweated for, this is your moment. The only one who will defeat you is you, son. Okay?"

He meant to be inspirational, but all Lyle heard was 'perfect', 'perfect', and 'perfect'. This was Maynard Hugginson's standard and he would accept nothing less, Lyle knew. He had made his plans for his son's future down to the last detail and, like everything else his father did, success was the only option. He'd had the successful high school and college football career. He'd pursued and won his place as Mayor of Daventry Hills. He was adored by pretty much everyone in town. Lyle didn't think his father had failed at anything or had moments of doubt ever in his life.

Lyle wished he could say the same for himself. He wanted to say that he was scared out of his mind that he was going to screw up in front of those scouts. He wanted to say that barding computer-spawned monsters was a hundred times less scary than having the hopes of the entire school pinned on his every move during a game, no matter how confident Lyle acted. He wanted to say that he had his own plans for his future.

But none of that would have been acceptable to his father, either. So, what Lyle said instead was simply, "Okay."

Maynard nodded his approval. "Good. Go get changed. I'll give you a ride home. We can go over some strategies for next week's game."

"Great."

It wasn't until Farber and Lyle's father had departed that Wyatt finally joined Lyle. "There's nothing as inspiring as watching Coach Farber sobbing into his Gatorade. Bad game?"

Wyatt knew nothing about sports and, beyond school pride, the computer nerd had no real interest in the game. He showed up and cheered for the home team because the quarterback was one of his best friends and that was simply what you did for your best friends. His disappointment at the loss owed simply to the fact that he knew Lyle took the defeat personally. He knew that Lyle hadn't been himself out on the field, but, unlike Lyle's teammates and the other spectators, Wyatt knew what was really bothering the school's star.

Lyle sighed. "The Cumberland-Georgia Tech game of 1916 was a bad game. This one was a disaster."

Wyatt scratched his head. "See, I know that's a sports reference of some kind, but I have no idea what it means."

"It means I'm going to end up eating Falcon feathers _and_ dad will probably make me wash cars to pay for his buddy's plane ticket out here when I don't sign that Letter of Intention for Notre Dame," Lyle spelled it out. He slumped onto the empty players' bench, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie jacket, Wyatt sat down next to Lyle. "So, I'm guessing you haven't told him about wanting to try for UCLA?"

"In case you haven't noticed, my dad is not an easy man to say 'no', too."

"In case you haven't noticed, avoiding the argument with him so far has tended to bite you in the butt." Wyatt was thinking of the previous year's homecoming game and the speech Mayor Hugginson had badgered Lyle into giving. He was remembering Mayor Hugginson pressuring Lyle to run for Student Body President, a position that hadn't interested Lyle in the least. Caving in to his dad's pressure had ended badly for Lyle both times.

"Arguing with him doesn't work well for me either. Dad controls the college fund, dad picks the school. If I don't get a scholarship, I don't get a choice."

Wyatt nodded. "Yeah, you have a problem, then."

Lyle made a face. "Thanks."

"He's right about you psyching yourself out, though. You really are one of the best players in the state," Wyatt said.

"Competing for the scouts' attention against the best players in the country…"

"You know, you're really raining crap on my pep talk." Wyatt chastised him. "A couple hour smashing Timiga Hunters and Lava Belchers in the game will take your mind off the scouts."

Lyle stood up. "I'll have to catch up with you at the warehouse-hey, where are Dante and Angie? I thought they were going to be here."

"Same place they've been for the last twenty-six hours: In line at the Tech World for the new Cobra T160 4.0 phone." Wyatt reached into his book bag and pulled out his new Cobra phone/game/pad with a flourish. "I got mine three weeks ago. I have connections," he bragged.

"It's good to be the King of the Geeks," Lyle said.

If there was a slight dig included in the compliment, it didn't bother Wyatt one bit. "It really is."

As Wyatt approached their warehouse headquarters, book bag slung over his shoulder, he heard familiar voices arguing inside. He groaned to himself, _Not again._ Apparently, Dante and Angie were back from the computer store. He entered the room with caution, never knowing what to expect when the two of them were bickering.

Wyatt saw the problem immediately: They had only one Cobra T-160 4.0 Phone-Pad and were having a tug-of-war over it much like two children fighting for a candy bar. He sighed.

"I ordered that three months ago!" Angie was trying to snatch the phone from Dante's hand, while he was doing an impressive job of keeping it just out of her reach no matter which way she moved. She was giving him the Glare of Death as usual, and, as usual, it didn't intimidate him one bit. Wyatt guessed in about thirty more seconds Angie would take back the phone by demonstrating her Krav Maga skills on the vulnerable parts of Dante's body.

Dante countered: "Well, I ordered it yesterday!"

He continued holding the device out of her reach. Glaring, she lashed out with her leg and kicked his feet out from under him. Angie followed that by tackling him to the floor, still wrestling for the device.

"You are so not doing this to me again-" Angie choked, mid-sentence. She'd momentarily forgotten Dante was not without his own-unique-defenses until she got a little too close to him in their prone position. Her eyes start watering at his ever-present, pungent smell. At this close proximity, it was almost as strong as it had been when she was stuck in that Skunk Bear costume with him. "-do you just _never_ shower?!"

"Only when Barbra ambushes me with the garden hose." While she was coughing, he scrambled out from under her.

Wyatt cleared his throat. "Problems?" he asked them.

Angie turned her glare on him. "I ordered this phone three months ago-"

"Yeah, I caught that part."

"-I camped out twenty-eight hours to pick it up, and this _cramp_ gets the last one because his buddy, Philbert, is a stock boy at Tech World."

Dante circled away from her, putting the couch between himself and the volatile girl. "What do you need it for? You don't even play games!"

Angie climbed over the couch, forcing him to run again. "You are aware it has other features besides game aps?"

He blinked as if she had no idea what she was talking about or didn't believe her.

She rolled her eyes. "No, of course you're not. And that is so not the point! Your buddies are always sneaking you stuff-the last slice of pizza in the cafeteria, the last ticket to the midnight premiere of '_Nearly Dusk'_…"

Wyatt gaped at his friend. "The Vampire-Zombie love story? Really?"

Dante's ears turned red, but he defended himself. "It's vampires and zombies together in one movie…that's a chick flick…that I've never seen…"

"You have a 'Team Derrick' t-shirt that would beg to differ," Angie reminded him as she made another grab for the phone.

Mid-tussle, he raised his arm above his head. Angie recoiled again from the smell, her eyes burning now. She lost her grip on the phone during the ensuing coughing fit. Dante escaped to the opposite end of the room, giving the girl a triumphant smirk.

_She was going to blow._ Wyatt saw it clearly as if a neon danger sign was blinking over Angie's head. "Guys-"

Angie went for the booty box so fast that Wyatt couldn't get to her before she'd snapped open the lock.

"Where'd you get the key-Angie, no!" Wyatt shouted.

She pulled out a weapon they'd stolen from a carpenter leak. The Rubber/Glue gun was completely non-lethal (only used in the game for construction purposes), but that didn't make it less frightening to see the device pointed at Dante.

Wyatt's attempt to snatch the weapon only caused her to press the trigger. "Whoah, no, Angie! Dante, watch out!"

Dante looked up at Wyatt's warning just as Angie fired a big ball of glue at him. He wasn't fast enough to dodge before the goo enveloped the phone in his hand-along with his upper right arm. This time, Angie smirked at him…until the rubbery glue rebounded off him. The backsplash of glue caught her left arm. Unable to stretch any farther, the glue dragged Angie across the room to collide with Dante. They landed in a tangle on the couch, now glued together at their upper arms.

Wyatt shook his head as he picked up the weapon Angie had dropped. "It's called a Rubber/Glue gun, Angie. Did you not kind of see that coming?"

Angie tried to pull herself free of Dante, causing both of them to yelp in pain. They'd lose all the skin on their upper arm before the adhesive bond would break. "Yeah, yeah. Does that thing have a 'reverse' switch or what?"

Wyatt was about to put the Rubber/Glue gun back into the box, but thought better of it. They'd just break into the box the minute he wasn't watching and then they'd be right back to wrestling over the phone. "Yes, it does."

They exchanged glances as if telepathically debating how to attack Wyatt and take back the gun. He didn't pretend to understand their bizarre relationship. They switched from trading insults the way other people traded greetings to off-kilter protectiveness without warning. However, Wyatt had learned one thing about them during the group's battle drills and when they hunted game leaks: Give Dante and Angie a common enemy (preferably an enemy game leak begging to be barded) and they became a fluid, butt-kicking, skull-cracking pair.

A pair that was now staring at Wyatt like he was that enemy game leak. He took a step backwards, swallowing with sudden nervousness.

…_Speaking of Leaks…_Their pagers suddenly beeped a familiar warning. Wyatt checked the display on his device. "That's a Leak. Gotta go." He headed for the door.

They tried to follow, but ended up tripping over each other trying to walk in opposite directions around the coffee tables.

"We can't fight like this!" Dante held up their fused arms.

Wyatt agreed. "No, you can't…and you'd better decide who gets custody of the phone, because I'm not ungluing you until you do. I'd do it quick, because you two can't go home like that." He tucked the Rubber/Glue gun under his arm and took it with him, just to make sure they stayed put. He left them that way, shouting threats at him as he shut the door behind him.

It might have been an idle threat. If this Leak turned out to be something that he and Lyle couldn't bard on their own, Wyatt would have to go back to the warehouse for Dante and Angie…and his Blast-A-Ton. He was halfway to the park when he realized, with irritation, that he was still carrying the Rubber/Glue gun, which was going to do him almost no good in terms of getting rid of whatever monster had just escaped the game. _He was going to have to go back for his Blast-A-Ton_…

As he stared at his pager, Wyatt noticed something that stopped him in his tracks: The clock on his phone had begun to turn back…and the closer he moved towards the site of the Leak, the faster the numbers rolled. His first thought was that his brand new phone was a super-expensive piece of junk, but a quick glance at his watch showed him that it, too, was running in reverse.

In fact, the closer he moved to the site of the leak, the faster the numbers on the watch rolled backwards.

It rolled back a little over a year, to stop on the date September 30, 2011.

He puzzled over the bizarre phenomenon. _What the heck_?

Lyle never heard the pager. The small device was tucked into his equipment bag, which was stuffed into his locker. The noise of the team locker room-booming voices bragging and swapping insults, the noise of running water from the showers, and the banging of locker doors—drowned out the soft beeps.

His mind was a million miles away, replaying every minute of that day's practice and imagining all the different ways he could screw up his big chance tomorrow, so Lyle probably wouldn't have noticed if someone set off a stink bomb in the locker room at that moment.

Listening to Farber having another weeping fit behind the closed door of his office was also not helping Lyle's concentration. Reggie and several other players listened to the muffled sobs, exchanging shrugs that said neither one was about to knock on his door. "I really hate it when he does that…he's going to get me started…" Reggie's voice cracked and empathetic tears glistened in his eyes. "…I can't keep crying like this…"

When heard Farber clear his throat and the sound of his heavy footsteps crossing his office, the boys gathered outside his door scattered, doing a pitiful job of acting nonchalant. Farber was too preoccupied with mentally revising his resume to take notice.

He paused long enough to force a smile and give Lyle a hearty pat on the shoulder. "There's the quarterback who's going to lead us to state, Hugginson. I feel it in my gut. You ready for tomorrow, kid?"

Lyle thought the words would have been more inspiring if the coach's bottom lip wasn't trembling. He played along for the older man's sake. "Sure thing, coach."

Wyatt had barely made it to the outskirts of the forest when a second Leak warning appeared on his pager….almost at the precise moment he spied the wormhole with the twin avatars standing before it.

They were faceless automatons with bodies made of smooth white steel. Their only distinguishing features were the chronometers that hung from chains around their necks.

_Doublebacks_, Wyatt recognized the monsters. This monster had the ability to split itself into two identical beings of equal power (which, obviously, it had already done). In the game, the Doublebacks had the ability to send players back to earlier points in their game play-deleting all badges and booty and experience points they'd accumulated. Being hit by two Doublebacks simultaneously could completely delete an avatar from the game.

That explained why his watch had suddenly gone haywire. _Time-traveling game leaks._ _Not good._

The Doublebacks were preparing to jump into the vortex. Wyatt really wished he had stopped to unglue Dante and Angie or at least thought to grab his Blast-A-Ton. There wasn't time to go back for his friends or his weapon-maybe he could use the Rubber/Glue gun to glue the avatars to a tree or something until Lyle got there.

Since they didn't have faces, it was almost impossible to tell which direction the creatures were looking. They must have been facing Wyatt, for they reacted to his arrival at once. The chronometers around their necks began to emit a blinding glare and unleashed a beam of temporal energy at him. Wyatt dodged, remembering from past experience how unpleasant it was to be caught in a temporal field. He fired the Rubber/Glue gun at the first Doubleback as it headed for the portal, but the string of adhesive missed the metallic creature and rebounded at the human, forcing Wyatt to again dive for cover. By the time he'd rolled back to his feet, the first Doubleback had vanished into the time vortex.

Being glued together had not interfered with Dante and Angie's stand-off over the cell phone/mini pad…it only meant that they tripped over furniture and each other's feet, occasionally landed an accidental elbow to the other's stomach or chin, and let out little yelps of pain when they pulled too hard against the hold of the adhesive.

Dante warned her, "You know I can do this longer than you can. I never do homework, so I have all the time in-"

At the moment, Angie wanted the phone more than her next A+. She'd show Dante she could out-stubborn him if she had to strap on a gas mask against his smell and stay there the entire weekend. "If you tried studying once in a while, maybe you'd be a-"

She gave one powerful pull against his grip on the phone, hard enough that she spun away from him, reeling from an ensuing wave of vertigo.

Angie opened her eyes as a car horn blasted at her. She jumped back, barely avoiding being creamed by a speeding Fiat. She hadn't realized she'd stepped off the sidewalk during her unexpected moment of dizziness.

She was thankful she hadn't dropped her new Cobra T160 4.0 during that near-miss. After sitting in line twenty-six hours to get the new phone, Angie would have kicked herself if she'd let it be demolished before she even got it home-

Angie blinked. She suddenly realized she didn't remember how she got from the store to the sidewalk in front of the Cherry Tree Mini Mall.

She was by herself. Hadn't she just been talking to someone-? She was keyed up as if she'd just been in the midst of a heated argument…but there wasn't a soul within one hundred feet of her, save for the idiot in the runaway Fiat. _Had she been talking to herself? Talking to herself was not good… How long had she been standing there?_ Angie turned to check the mall's clock tower.

The clock's hands were running backwards.

_Weird. _She rubbed at her eyes and looked again.

The clock's hands were running backwards faster than the first time she'd looked.

She frowned. "What the-?"

The second Doubleback jumped into the wormhole an instant before Wyatt fired.

The ball of goo followed the creature into the vortex. Seconds passed until the adhesive rebounded. Wyatt felt the ball of glue tugging something that he hoped was the game monster.

The glue bounced back, dragging not the Doubleback, but the monster's chronometer. The device landed in Wyatt's hand, frozen and not functioning in the absence of its owner.

Just like Wyatt's watch, the chronometer read 'September 30, 2011'.

When they heard Farber clear his throat and the sound of his heavy footsteps crossing his office, the boys gathered outside his door scattered, doing a pitiful job of acting nonchalant. Farber was too preoccupied with mentally revising his resume to take notice.

He paused long enough to force a smile and give their quarterback a hearty pat on the shoulder. "There's the quarterback who's going to lead us to state, McCobb. I feel it in my gut. You ready for tomorrow, kid?"

The coach was putting on a show of confidence in their quarterback hoping that the confidence would spread to the rest of the team. McCobb felt the stares of the other players, overheard a few of the rude comments they whispered to each other. The words 'cheat' and 'not Hugginson' burned his ears, but Mike did his best to ignore it. He refused to be intimidated. "You know it, coach."

Farber nodded approval. The team continued to glare in distrust. Reggie actually managed to bump McCobb on his way to the door.

In their distraction, the boys never noticed their watches…and the clock on the wall…beginning to turn backwards.

As soon as the time vortex closed, leaving him standing in the woods with the broken chronometer, Wyatt's watch began to roll forward until it finally stopped at the current date.

That was the moment things got weird…which was saying quite a lot for Daventry Hills.

The world around him began to transform. As he stood staring, an unnatural purple energy spread across the sky, forming a dome that stretched across the entire city from what Wyatt could tell. It blocked out the evening sky, casting a surreal glow like that of a purple sun, if the sun occasionally crackled with pale purple lightning.

The trees and bushes and basically anything that had been green seconds earlier faded to sickly brown and gray hues. Some of the plants sprouted mouths and began snapping at Wyatt's feet and snatching insects out of the air. He jumped out of the reach of the plants, only to be deafened when yellow flowers sprouted from the ground, their blossoms making a noise like screams as the breeze blew them. _Shrieking Delilahs_, Wyatt recognized the blooms. _Those are from the game…so are the Snapping Shrubs…_

Water rose out of the earth and pooled, rising up to Wyatt's knees. It was a disgusted green color and stank of sulfur. Creatures he couldn't identify were swimming past his ankles, some of them nipping at him. With a yelp, he ran until he finally made his way out of the newly formed marsh…_The Stenchwater Swamp? That was part of the game, too._

Skelehawks glided overhead, moving from tree to gnarled tree. Red frog-snake mutants tried and failed to blend against the gray and brown foliage. Wyatt heard the chirps and growls of dozens of strange animals and birds all around him…and he smelled a Skunk Bear close by.

This was more than a game leak.

This was a game invasion.

"_Really_ not good." Wyatt reached for his phone and texted Lyle, Dante, and Angie a plea for help.

The device beeped at him: _ Send Failed._

"No bars? Now?!" Absurdly, Wyatt shook the pager like that would make a difference.

"Human!"

The word-the venomous inflection-sent a cold shiver of dread down Wyatt's spine. The word had been formed by a mouth not used to speaking English, or maybe just not used to speaking at all. It was as if a dog or a gorilla was trying to talk. It had come from the nearby blood-red bushes, which rustled as something very large approached.

The monsters that emerged from the forest were human-shaped, but their entire torso was covered with quills like a porcupine. The uniform they'd somehow worked around their needles bore an insignia Wyatt recognized from the game.

_Three-Toed Tenrecs. Maldark's foot-soldiers. _

"Human, you are not at your assigned labor facility and you have been found carrying a weapon. By the edicts of our glorious Lord Maldark, you are sentenced to execution. Do not resist." The leader of the trio of Tenrecs aimed its quill-covered fist at Wyatt.

"Choosing resistance!" Wyatt lifted his bookbag, shielding himself from the first volley of the needles. This bought him only a few precious seconds, during which his mind calculated what to do with astonishing speed. He had only the Rubber/Glue gun, and Wyatt really didn't want to become a human pincushion by gluing himself to mutant porcupines. That left him only one other tactic.

He turned and ran away as fast as he could, noticing all the while that the forest was filling with more and more game creatures. For the moment, he only cared about the three monsters that were trying to kill him.

_What the hell was going on?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I still don't own 'Level Up' or its characters._

**2**

Wyatt emerged from the forest into a Daventry Hills that he no longer recognized.

He skidded to a stop in the middle of the street to stare at his town, momentarily forgetting the horde of Tenrecs that was not far behind him. The city had been transformed into something that looked like a hybrid of a medieval village and an alien world from _Star Trek_…in other words, Daventry Hills had been remade into a city right out of _Conqueror Of All Worlds._

Many of the buildings had collapsed-or been knocked down-and rodent-like mutants were crawling around and living in the rubble. He could swear he saw a blue-haired Hampire among them. Some structures had burned down and the rubble still smoldered. Houses were now huts, hovels, or stretched into tall structures that resembled ant hills (with residents that looked like ants) He spied a Scurr queen and her swarm nesting in a honeycomb-like hill of mud. There were tents pitched everywhere, with cooking fires going and pots bubbling over open fires. Smoke billowed in the distance from hundreds of these camp fires burning all across the city-village.

The enormous dome of purple energy covered all of Daventry Hills.

Most disturbingly, there was not a human in sight. There were _humanoid_ monsters, but no humans. Dragons, cockatrices, Skelehawks, and other creatures glided across the dark, purple sky. Mutant peddlers and shopkeepers were everywhere, selling food and other wares, only some of which Wyatt was identify. There were statues honoring "Lord Maldark" everywhere.

_He did it. He conquered this world…at least, Daventry Hills,_ Wyatt mused grimly.

The roar of the Tenrecs reminded Wyatt that not only was he being pursued but that he now stuck out like a sore human thumb in this city of game leaks. The best he could do to start with was pull his jacket hood over his head to hide his face as he hurried made his way to the busy downtown area of the city-village. He shoved the broken chronometer into his pocket, and kept his obviously-human hands tucked there as well. For good measure, Wyatt grabbed a handful of ash from a gutted building and smeared it across his face, hoping that helped. He slung his book bag across his shoulders beneath his jacket, hoping it could pass for a hump, and affected a lump. He prayed that this would make him resemble a Humpback Forest Goon rather than a scared human teenager.

It seemed to be working. The avatar population didn't pay him much mind as he hobbled down the street. But, he still needed a better disguise if he was going to move around the city unnoticed.

Wyatt spied a peddler's cart laden with garments. The merchant was a Chlorephant: Blue skin, one eye, two fingers on each hand, bat-like ears, and a talon protruding from its chin. The talon could be used to choke or snap the neck of an adversary. This Chlorephant, however, was more interested in profit than combat.

The only problem was, Wyatt had nothing remotely like game money to trade for the clothing. Gold was the preferred currency of the game…

_Gold_. Wyatt fished for his keychain, which was a tiny, gold-plated disk etched with the words: _First Prize, Junior Division, Daventry Hills Mathcathelon_. It pained him to part with it, but not as much as being pierced by dozens of Tenrec quills would pain him.

He offered it to the freakish peddler. "A human trinket. I'll trade it for your cloak."

"Glorbnab," the peddler answered, talon curling upwards. Wyatt supposed that was a "yes", because the Chlorephant handed over the stinky coat and took the keychain from the teenager.

Wyatt quickly pulled the coat over his hooded sweater. He shuffled along as quickly as he dared, still affecting a hunched position, heading in the direction of where the warehouse used to be. He doubted it was still there. That worried him…he had yet to find an intact house or see a hint of a real human. If the warehouse HQ was no more, he didn't begin to know where to search for Lyle, Dante, or Angie.

The rest of the city was in the same condition-only worse and even more bizarre.

The buildings—those still standing-were a hodgepodge of medieval shacks, futuristic skyscrapers, tent cities, and adobe huts. The plaza across from City Hall was now a playground for Lava Belchers. Their miniature volcanos lined the square, and a dozen of the rock creatures scurried around, spewing molten rock for form new lava domes. Occasionally, one burp hot rocks onto other passing avatars, who in turn would curse in their peculiar dialects and hurl objects at the impish belchers. Wyatt saw at least ten more statues honoring Lord Maldark. The Tenrec guards patrolled every street. When he could not elude them, he ducked into a medieval tavern.

It may have been medieval on the exterior, but on the inside…well, Wyatt felt as if he'd walked into the Mos Eisley cantina from _Star Wars_. If he wasn't there due to a serious break in reality, if he wasn't confused, seriously weirded out, and being chased by porcupine-men, Wyatt would have been in nerd heaven.

The tavern had relatively modern mugs, glasses, tables, and fixtures, with a few exceptions. It was lit by torches instead of electricity. The furniture ranged in design from twists of steel to carved stone to rotted wood.

The place was also packed, nearly wall-to-wall with game monsters. A quick sweeping glance around the room showed Wyatt several Five-Armed Blood Marauders, more Lava Belchers, sprites, elves, a two-headed Z&Z, and a Mesmer. The latter was an avatar formed of crystal and steel with a t.v.-like screen where its face should have been.

The Mesmer turned its head in Wyatt's direction. He avoided eye contact with the creature. Ducking his head, he took a seat at the bar and made himself as small as possible on the barstool. Mesmers were dangerous. The screens covering their faces could, without warning, display intricate patterns of light that left their victims in highly suggestible states…subject to mind control, forced to answer any question truthfully, and generally no better than zombies.

The bartender—who sported three arms, blue skin, and eyes in the back of his skull-was suddenly standing in front of Wyatt. "You drinking or what?" He slid the boy a drink that smelled and looked like pond scum to Wyatt. Gagging, he took a sip to appease the monster.

The Lava Belchers were in the far corner, seated at a table carved of stone. As they drank liquid that turned to steam inside their mouths, one let out a burp of lava that reduced the cup in its hand to ash.

The bartender point a fat finger at the offender: "Do that again and out you go!"

The Lava Belchers merely uttered laughs that sounded like the rumble of an earthquake.

Wyatt saw Skulks-orange-haired sloth-like monsters-hanging asleep from the slowly-rotating blades of the ceiling fan. One was snoring, causing any patrons who passed close enough to be hit by its breath to fall asleep...and consequently fall to the floor, spilling drinks and breaking glasses. After the fourth patron fell, the bartender pulled a broom from behind the bar and used it to poke at the Skulks.

"Come on, wake up! You're putting my drunks to sleep. Shoo!" he roused them. The Skulks obeyed, but at the rate they 'shooed', Wyatt doubted they'd reach the door until at least dawn.

Discreetly, Wyatt turned his head to take a glance at the other side of the room. That was when he realized he was sitting directly in front of a "Wanted" board. If he'd been able to take another sip of the scum water, he would have spit it out for surprise when he spied Lyle's face on one of the vellum posters pinned there.

At least, he _thought_ it was Lyle, since the drawing made his friend look like a game avatar. The Lyle in the drawing had a shadow of a beard, sunglasses, a scar under his right eye, and his hair was longer and unkempt. The poster read: "_Most Wanted: Lyle Hugginson, Thief of the Genesis Orb. Lord Maldark offers a personal reward for the capture of this Dissident_."

_What's a Genesis Orb?_ Wyatt didn't remember that from the game.

He scanned the collection of posters. There were no wanted signs for Wyatt or Dante. Wyatt was uncertain if that was a good sign or a bad one. He did find a poster of Angie—the girl in the drawing was just as rough looking as Lyle. The difference was that this notice had a red, diagonal line drawn across the picture. The parchment read: "_Most Wanted: Angie Prietto, Instigator_." Below that, someone had penciled in: "_Executed by the Grinders for the glory of Lord Maldark_".

"Angie…" Wyatt felt the blood drain from his face. _That couldn't be true…what the _hell_ was going on_? Maldark had conquered Daventry Hills, obviously, and maybe all of Earth for all Wyatt knew, but how? _Okay, that was also obvious-the Doublebacks altered history. They did something on September 30 of the previous year…something that kept Never Fail from stopping Maldark's invasion. _Wyatt tried to remember anything remarkable about last September. Never Fail had not yet formed a year ago. They hadn't even met in the game a year ago. Dante was still the insane kid who rode carts down the school steps, and Lyle was still the football all-star who wouldn't be seen dead with a nerd like Wyatt or admit to playing online games.

_Where was Wyatt in this timeline? Where was Dante? And Max Ross? Why hadn't they stopped Maldark's escape? Why didn't they protect Angie?_

A scream from the direction of the tables startled Wyatt out of his grim musings. A pair of Five-Arm Blood Marauders had start arguing. They were having an arm wrestling contest-using three arms each-that had turned into a full-out wrestling match. Now, the pair of monsters were rolling around the tavern floor, knocking over furniture and patrons alike. One ripped off the other's fourth arm. His rival howled angrily.

"You did that on purpose, Carsus!" the now-Four Armed Marauder accused.

Carsus smiled a grin missing most of its teeth. "You have four other arms, Argus!"

Argus was not satisfied with that answer. "And I'll be a Four-Arm Marauder?! Allow the whole realm to see my shame?"

With that, Argus snatched his severed arm back from Carsus and used it like a club to start whacking his opponent. The tavern patrons scattered and more furniture was twisted, crumbled, or splintered.

"Every night…" a sprite complained as it hurried out of the bar.

The bartender called to the Mesmer: "Aren't you going to do anything?"

The Mesmer watched the brawl, but did nothing to stop it. Apparently, it is not interested in policing drunks.

The departing sprite snorted. "He won't do anything unless a human shows up."

Wyatt hunched down a little more, pulling his hood further over his face.

"ENOUGH!"

The shout came from the door to the pub, and the voice boomed with such power that the furniture and fixtures shook and pieces of plaster broke off the ceiling. All movement in the room came to a dead stop and every voice fell silent. All eyes turned to the figure standing in the doorway as another game monster entered the bar.

Wyatt could have mistaken the newcomer for a human, if not for the unnatural force of his voice…and the distinctly colonial-era Navy garb he wore. The man was short, portly, and wore glasses, but there was a glint in his eye that warned the brawling Marauders that he could force their obedience to his command. He carried a crate labeled "Live Frogs", which the Skulks stopped and sniffed with interest as they continued their slow trek to the exit.

The Marauders had frozen, mid-tussle.

"I see you know who I am," the portly avatar nodded.

Carsus and Augustus swallowed nervously.

_Guy_? Wyatt recognized the newcomer now. This was the little game leak that Dante—or rather, Sir Bickle-had helped defeat a Five-Arm Blood Marauder. In the game, Guy was destined to fight and defeat twenty such Marauders. He must have done so in this reality, judging by how the burly Carsus and Augustus were cowed by Guy's presence.

"Begging your pardon, Sir Guy," Carsus bowed slightly. The two combatants backed away from each other and meekly slinked back to their corner.

Then, the Marauders jumped out the window, breaking the wooden shutters. Argus dropped his severed arm on the way out. A dog-like monster darted out from beneath a table and grabbed the arm, scampering happily away with its prize.

Satisfied, Guy forgot the marauders and lugged his crate to the bar. He sat the box on the bar in front of the bartender. "Your usual order, Mr. Ilu, for my usual price."

The bartender, Ilu, all but drooled when he heard and smelled the frogs. It was his customers' favorite dish, live frogs. Without haggling, he stepped into the back room of the tavern and returned with two crates labeled 'human food'. Ilu's giant nose wrinkled up in distaste at the smell of the human food.

"Don't know how you stomach this rot, Sir Guy."

Guy sniffed the food with a smile. "On the contrary, my friend, these are delicacies! Humans may be deplorable creatures, but they produce such delightful morsels."

The Mesmer now turns its head to watch Guy, immediately suspicious.

Guy tried to placate the sentinel avatar. "Nothing to fret about, my good man…"

The Mesmer's crystal face suddenly displayed a kaleidoscope of colors, focusing its hypnotic powers on the little avatar.

Guy's expression became blank and his eyes glassy. He spoke in a robotic tone this time. "…I have the proper permits from Lord Maldark. My people are very similar to humans. They're starving."

Since it was impossible to lie to a Mesmer, the crystal creature accepted this as truth. It ceased the visual assault on Guy. The avatar blinked, released from the spell.

He shook his head, greatly unsettled. "Goodness, but that is unpleasant…" He noticed Wyatt watching him, although he couldn't see the boy too well with the hood covering his face. Guy winked. "…a trick I've discovered with the Mesmers is not to try to hide the truth from them, but rather, control which kernels of truth you share with them."

"I'll try to remember that," Wyatt answered. He tried, and failed again, to sip at the drink Ilu had provided. Guy downed a beverage that smelled faintly of pumpkin and hot sauce with a smile of pure bliss.

Wyatt considered the digital man who was the closest thing to a familiar face that he'd seen yet. He'd been something like a friend of Dante's in the real timeline. Was there the more remote chance their paths had crossed in this alternate universe?

_And if he so much as suspected Wyatt was human, was he going to blurt it to the Mesmer that sat not far away_?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Wyatt blurted: "You're Guy from Newport, aren't you?"

Guy raised an eyebrow. "Have we met, sir?"

"No, but I've heard you saved your city from like twenty of those Five-Armed Marauders," Wyatt complimented.

The portly man smiled, flattered. "That is, perhaps an exaggeration. Eighteen, nineteen at most. Who told you the tale?"

It was the question Wyatt hoped he'd ask. "A friend. You may know him? Sir Bickle, the knight?"

Guy shook his head. "I'm afraid not. However, what a privilege to be regarded with honor. Thank you, sir."

The Mesmer was not finished. The monster emitted a high-pitched warning tone that captured the attention of every creature in the tavern. Its face plate blinked red light.

Ilu sighed. "Speaking of humans, here we go again."

The Mesmer projected a three-dimensional hologram, and Wyatt received his third rude surprise since entering the pub minutes earlier. The image was that of Lyle's father, Mayor Maynard Hugginson. He was flanked by two Tenrec guards and another Mesmer. He also had the glazed expression of someone under the power of a Mesmer.

"Citizens—a human has been sighted in Maldark Hills. The standard reward is offered for his capture." Briefly, the image of Hugginson was replaced by a grainy photo of Wyatt, caught by a traffic camera as he'd emerged from the park. "I remind to all humans still hiding within the realm: Our gracious lord, Maldark, will gift you with the honor of serving in the copper mines of Krendell or the Gniqu farms or laboring in his weapons factories if you surrender yourself to the Tenrec officers. As Ambassador to our Overlord, I urge you to do so at once. If you do not, you are subject to execution for the glory of Maldark. And a reminder, the avatar who retrieves the Genesis Orb will receive a reward beyond your wildest expectations from Lord Maldark."

The bar's patrons gave the required, in not sincere, response automatically: "The Glory of Maldark!"

Ilu went back to rearranging his bottles and glasses. Guy was absently fiddling with the ring on his pinky finger, as if focusing on it to shut out the message and the horrors it brought to mind. One avatar uttered a soft insult about the broadcast the instant that the Mesmer ceased projecting the message and resumed its silent vigil.

Wyatt discreetly looked at the rebellious monster. It was not a monster that Wyatt had yet encountered in the game. It wore blue fabric with metal armor over its left forearm, shins, elbows, and chest. Its gloves were also metal. Chain mail wrapped around its neck up to its chin like a scarf. Patches of red flesh showed here and there, especially its neck…its red skin looks rough, as if burned in a fire and only partially healed. A visor hid its eyes (_or eye, for all Wyatt knew_) and mouth, distorting its voice so it sounds almost robotic. It carried an Atomic Wedge, a particularly nasty boomerang-style weapon. In the game, it could take off an avatar's arm, leg, or head.

The avatar looks around the bar as if seeking someone or something. Guy hurriedly moved to intercept the monster. "You shouldn't be here, Mahtava," Wyatt overhead him whisper. Guy jutted his chin towards the Mesmer to underscore his concern. The crystal avatar had no interest in the red-skinned avatar.

Mahtava inclined its head in response, but also jerked its arm out of Guy's reach. "I have business." Spying what it wanted, Mahtava moved to the Z&Z.

Guy retreated to his barstool beside, not masking his nervousness very well. Wyatt felt his own apprehension heighten. "Dangerous creatures," Guy quietly told Wyatt. "Irrational, unpredictable…uncivilized," he added, nose wrinkling.

The two headed kangaroo-human hybrid tried to curl into a ball to hide from the lumbering Mahtava. Mahtava crossed the room in three strides, and before Z&Z knew it, the atomic wedge was shoved up against the throat of one of its heads.

"You have information for me, Zaglis." Mahtava's voice was low, calm, and deadly, even with the distortion from the visor.

The head called Zaglis was wide-eyed. "You shouldn't be here. I was coming to see you, Mahtava. Don't you trust me?"

Mahtava answered by pressing the wedge harder against his throat. "That depends…remind me again, are you the head that always tells the truth or the head that always lies?"

Zaglis shrugged his shoulder. "The truth, of course."

The other head objected. "He lies!"

"Me? You're the one who lies, Ziglis! You're lying now!"

Ziglis tugged on Zaglis' ear. "You are!"

Mahtava punched Ziglis in his side of their shared jaw. The metal gloves left quite a mark. Ziglis spit out a pointed tooth and complained, "Your kind is so humorless."

"One of you is going to answer my question, and then the other one is going to give me the same answer or else I'll know one of you is lying...then I'll have to guess which of your tongues to cut out," Mahtava ordered.

Both heads squeaked in terror. Zaglis stuck his head into their belly pouch. Mahtava caught him by the back of his neck and pulled his head back out.

Both heads of the Z&Z spoke at once: "The factory is at the-what do the humans call it? Gymnauseasium! Plenty of humans there, hunter!"

Mahtava raised his or her fist again, but did not strike. They had to be speaking the truth…at least one head of the Z&Z must always tell the truth. Slowly, Mahtava lowered the wedge. Letting out a breath it had been holding, Z&Z dug into the pouch and offered up a small parchment with a map, which the red-skinned avatar accepted.

While Mahtava checked the scroll, Z&Z wriggled free and ran from the tavern.

Done with the kangaroo-man, Mahtava turned to stare back at Guy…and then to Wyatt. Though Wyatt could not see the avatar's face, he had the creepy feeling that Mahtava could see right through the hood and see that he was a human.

Unnerved, he tried to casually slide from his barstool and seek a back door from the place. Instead, he collided with Guy, who had finished his drink and was picking up his crates. Guy dropped the boxes and Wyatt was nearly knocked off his feet, while only drew further attention to their corner.

"Oh dear, a thousand apologies, my good-" Guy looked at Wyatt and his eyes widened. "-man?"

Wyatt's hood had fallen away from his face, revealing his very human features for all to see. Each of the monsters stared in shock…for two seconds. Then every kind of weapon was drawn and aimed at the teenager.

The Mesmer's face began to glow red and it emitted it shrill cry of alert.

At once, all present lunged for Wyatt.

Guy grabbed a handful of the boy's jacket and shoved him towards the rear exit of the tavern. "Run, sir."

Not one to generally ignore good advice, Wyatt bolted from the tavern and into the street. Guy steps aside as the throng of patrons converged on the door, led by Mahtava. Besides Guy, only Ilu stayed behind, not the least bit interested in humans or rewards from Maldark.

Wyatt ran outside only to find that the warning alarm had drawn more Mesmers and Tenrec soldiers. A Timiga Warrior led the soldiers in pursuit of the human. He'd always found the Timiga particularly freaky. They reminded him of frill-necked lizards, which of themselves produced some spectacular nightmares for Wyatt. The Timiga were worse because they were essentially seven-foot tall frill-necked reptiles. If that weren't bad enough, they had the ability to break off their own fangs and spit them like deadly darts into their foes…_and_ they always carried their distant cousins, frill-necked slime-slugs, as pets. The slugs sniffed out prey for the Timiga, as the latter completely lacked a sense of smell.

With difficulty, he shook himself out of the phobia-induced panic at the appearance of the Timiga and kept running.

Mesmers were echoing the alarm all across the captured city. Wyatt avoids making eye contact with the hypnotic colors they projected in attempts to subdue him. The cacophony from the Mesmers and the shouts of the mob pursuing the human only attracted more monsters to the chase. The Tenrecs weren't quite close enough yet to use their quills on Wyatt, and he had no intention of letting them get into range. He ran into an alley.

Mahtava raised the Atomic Wedge, stepping between the Timiga leader and his quarry. "The human is mine, Saast!"

There were shouts of disagreement as visions of a huge reward kindled the avatars' greed. Saast raised his arm at the masked avatar, the slug sliding down his arm to bare its fangs at the hunter. "You forget your place! When I catch you at your treasonous acts, your head will be placed on a pike next to the humans!"

"Your Grinders can't catch me…and neither can you," Mahtava mocked him.

The First One of Maldark seethed at the challenge. Were the human not a more important priority, the Timiga would have gifted Mahtava with the punishment befitting insolence and suspected sedition.

Saast followed Wyatt into the alley. Mahtava was only a step behind.

Wyatt was doing his best to lose his pursuers, but the streets and alleyways of Daventry Hills were not the same as he remembered. Some were blocked by piles of burning rubble. Others had monsters living in their ruins, who joined in chasing the human.

Seeing all kinds of avatars, some literally crawling out of the woodwork, Wyatt pushed down a surge of panic. "Oh, come on! Really?!"

He reached the end of the alley to find an electric fence, of all things, blocking his escape. Mahtava was right behind him, Atomic Wedge in hand, shoving Saast out of the way.

"No place to hide, human!" Mahtava purred dangerously.

Wyatt closed his eyes as the avatar threw the wedge at his head.

It missed Wyatt and sliced right through the electric fence to his left. Then, it circled around and sliced the fence to his right on its trajectory back to its wielder. Wyatt opened his eyes to see there was now a hole in the fence just barely large enough for him to squeeze though without being electrocuted.

Wyatt grinned back at the thwarted hunter and the Timugu warrior. "That worked out well…for me, anyway."

Mahtava caught the flying weapon and lumbered after him, Saast and the other monsters close behind.

This time, Saast shoved Mahtava aside: "Move!" He spat a razor-sharp fang in the teenager's direction, but Wyatt was still out of range.

Wyatt has nearly made it back to the park, not far from the high school. Unfortunately, as he turned onto the open, level road, the monster avatars began to gain on him rapidly. Some were closing the distance by hopping like rabbits. Some had wings and started flying.

Belatedly, he remembered the gun tucked beneath the cloak, which now billowed like a cape behind him. Wyatt turned and fired the Rubber/Glue gun at his pursuers. The blob formed a net of adhesive that snagged many of the avatars. Mahtava dove out of the way, but Saast's hulking form could not move quite as fast and was caught in the snare.

Wyatt ducked when the glue stretched to its limits and then slung the netted monsters in his direction, sending them sailing into the park to become entangled in the tree branches. Wyatt had only a second of triumph until the gun dribbled a blob of glue onto Wyatt's shoes. He was suddenly stuck to the pavement.

"Oh, crap…"

It was downhill from there. The mob stopped in their tracks at the sound of a peculiar humming noise approaching from the direction of the high school. The pack was soon cut off from their pursuit by a dozen humanoid figures riding what looked to Wyatt like hoverboards straight of _Back to the Future_. The avatars each wore long, tattered overcoats of black or brown. Bandanas covered their faces, and their eyes were shaded by a sunglasses with digital night vision enhancements.

There were some kind of implants in their necks that reminded Wyatt of the bolts in Frankenstein's neck. The implants were capped with small, blinking red lights. The avatars carried long, tubular weapons that sparked electricity like Taser guns…

He squinted at the approaching figures. Even in the perpetual darkness created by the purple sky, he could still see there was something different about them. Then it hit him like a slap in the face: they were humans, _real_ humans. Their movements were not graceful, precise, or robotic enough for them to be anything else, besides intuition helped him distinguish between flesh and digital code. But why were they heading at him with their weapons drawn? Were they coming to his rescue or about to attack?

Then one pointed the pipe-like weapon and fired a bolt of energy that missed Wyatt by inches, and the answer became clear. "Aren't we on the same side?" he shouted at them.

He got the impression they were sneering under their masks.

Not waiting for their answer, he quickly untied his shoes and left them behind. He ran for the park and the cover of the forest.

Most of the mob hesitated to follow him into the woods, including Mahtava, but the masked figures on the hoverboards kept coming. The hunter held out an arm, gesturing for the others to hang back. "Leave the human to the Grinders!"

Wyatt couldn't help but look back over his shoulder. _Those guys are the Grinders? The ones who killed Angie?_ His anger burned…but he was outnumbered and armed with a glue gun. In his panic and rage, the still-rational corner of his mind warned him it was not wise to challenge his pursuers.

He couldn't hope to outrun them in the park in the dark. He would trip over an unseen stump or rock and break his leg (or his neck). Wyatt ran in a zig-zag pattern, knowing they'd only close in faster if he ran in a straight line. When he succeeded in putting some distance between himself and the Grinders, he hid behind a fallen tree. The Grinders stopped. Having lost track of their prey, they began to fire blasts blindly into the forest, hoping to scare Wyatt out of hiding.

When one floated too near his hiding place, Wyatt grabbed a large tree branch and swung it, knocking him off his hoverboard. The boy didn't stay down long-on foot, he still headed for Wyatt with the Hail Razor. Blue eyes lit by glee (and possibly insanity) promised payback for the embarrassment. Wyatt hit him with a blob of glue.

Realizing he was stuck, the Grinder shouted to the pack: "Over here! He's here!"

The others circled back. Wyatt raised the gun at them, wondering how many he could snare before the rest of them took him down.

Fog started to roll in.

Wyatt stared at it, dumbfounded. The mist was thick and blue-tinged and gave off a sweet smell that suddenly made him quite sleepy. He blinked to keep his eyes open. _This stuff looks like…_

"Fog Faeries!" The Grinders' leader shouted a warning. He waved them back. Those who did not already have their cloth masks in place hurriedly pulled them on. It was clear that they'd dealt with this kind of attack before.

Through the mist, a hand reached over Wyatt's shoulder from behind and snatched the weapon out of his hands. He very nearly screamed, until he heard a familiar, welcome voice scold: "Forget the gun! Get your ass out of here, man! Come on!"

Wyatt spun, gaping at the bedraggled figure that had emerged from the cover of the tree line. He was staring into a scarred face he immediately recognized.

"Lyle!"

If Lyle recognized Wyatt, he gave no indication. He grabbed the computer nerd by the shoulder and shoved him roughly into the woods. "I said _run_!"


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I still don't own "Level Up" or its characters._

**3**

"Are you out of your mind letting the Grinders spot you?!"

"Yeah, well, I'm kind of new in town."

Wyatt followed Lyle as they rushed deeper into the park, to what should have been another housing track but was now swampland. The monster mob seemed reluctant to follow, but the Grinders had no such qualms. The effects of the Fog Faeries' mists slowed them down, but not by much.

Lyle was running awkwardly. Wyatt noticed him wincing with pain now and then. When they finally dove for cover under thick brush, getting a face full of moldy swamp water in the process, Lyle paused for a few seconds to rub at his left knee.

"You want to elaborate on that? No one is 'new in town'-unless you found a way to walk through Maldark's barrier?" Lyle indicated the distant, shimmering wall of purple energy. Then he asked the last question Wyatt wanted to hear: "Who are you?"

_Lyle didn't know him._ That was discouraging, but Wyatt supposed he should have guessed as much. "It's…kind of hard to explain."

Hearing the hums of the Grinders' hoverboards, Lyle gestured for silence. Wyatt nodded. He watched Lyle pull some sort of remote from his pocket and press its button.

Nothing happened as far as Wyatt could tell…not until the Grinders glided too near their hiding place. A few feet away from Lyle and Wyatt, the masked figures sailed straight into an invisible force field not unlike the one surrounding the city. All of them landed in the dank water of the marsh while their boards kept going, flying out of their reach.

That was the end of the chase. Lyle emerged from the underbrush, managing to swagger in triumph despite his limp. He gave the thrashing figures a mocking wave before turning to move deeper into the swamps. Wyatt had to hurry to keep up.

"A little something I took off one of Maldark's generals." Lyle pocketed the portable shield generator. He picked up the line of questioning right where he'd left off. "So, 'a little hard to explain' is it? Try me. I'm pretty sharp."

Now that the fear of death was not at the forefront of his mind, Wyatt took a good look at his friend. It occurred to him that Lyle's bizarre outfit was almost an exact replica of his avatar, Wizza's, right down to the sunglasses, which didn't seem to hamper Lyle's vision despite the darkness of the marshes. All that was missing was the Thunder Pole.

"It's a long story," Wyatt added.

Lyle laughed bitterly. "You can see, I've got nothing but time."

"And you won't believe it anyway."

"I live in swamp in a town that's been conquered by video game monsters and a computer-generated warlock. Anytime I try to change clothes, whatever I put on turns into this." Lyle made a face at the garish overcoat and sunglasses. "You'd be surprised what I'd believe at this point." He waited, staring so intensely that Wyatt swallowed nervously.

Lamely, he stuck out his hand. "I'm Wyatt, by the way."

It wasn't what Lyle was expecting, but he shook Wyatt's outstretched hand anyway. "Lyle."

"I know."

"What?"

Wyatt explained. "From school. I remember you. I mean...what happened to your leg?"

Lyle rolled his eyes. This kid got stranger by the minute. How could he remember Lyle and not know what happened to his leg? "You really aren't from around here, are you? And don't change the subject."

They had walked deep enough into the swamp that Lyle finally judged it safe to light the flashlight he carried without fear of Tenrecs or Grinders seeing. Wyatt looked around with wide-eyed fascination at their surroundings. He recognized it from the game. This was the (appropriately named) Stenchwater Swamps. He could hear the chirps, growls, and other inhuman noises of the game leaks that dwelled there.

He paused to stare at the yellow and red flowers that were sprouting out of the water. "Shrieking Deliliahs…they cover the human scent, disorient the hunters. That's why you're out here, isn't it? And you made allies of the Fog Faeries? That was sprite vapor you used on the Grinders, wasn't it? That is awesome…"

Lyle raised an eyebrow. "For someone 'new in town', you have a pretty good grasp on your game mythology."

Wyatt nodded. "I used to play the game…didn't you?"

"I didn't have time for games."

Entranced with the computer-spawned marshes, Wyatt jumped when he saw a shadow moving nearby…until he recognized the shape of the Barbarian game leak they'd dubbed 'Bob'. The barbarian was wielding a nasty-looking club. For a minute, Wyatt feared Bob was going to use the club on him. He'd been friendly in the other timeline, but in this universe, who knew…?

Lyle patted Wyatt's shoulder, grinning. "Relax, he's with me."

In his other hand, Bob carried several dead game leak animals…all of them were long and slimy and looked like big tapeworms. He grunted a word that sounded like: "Dinner."

Lyle gave the barbarian the thumbs up sign. "Good work, buddy."

Bob was pleased with the approval. With a grin that was missing many teeth, he offered one of the worm creatures to Wyatt.

Wyatt felt his lunch threatening to come up. "No, thanks…I…I'm sure it tastes like chicken…snot covered chicken…but no."

"Can't afford to be a picky eater out here, Wyatt," Lyle warned.

As they continued on their way, Bob following close behind, Wyatt began to see the flicker of small campfires in the distance. Shadows-human and otherwise-became discernible. Once in a while, a Fog Sprite glided, silent and graceful, among the trees or darted into the skies above. Slowly, Wyatt figured out they were going up to get a vantage point of the entire swamp and the park. _Maybe they were the ones who had told Lyle that Wyatt was in trouble._

Twisted points of metal became interspersed with the vegetation. Wyatt peered at the fragments until he realized they were very human things like rusted car fenders, pieces of piping, old appliances…_the junk yard_! The Stenchwater Swamp had formed above Daventry Hills' scrapyard. Never Fail had chased a half-dozen metal-craving game leaks around that place. Some of the stacks of old, smashed cars were still standing. Here, where the watery wasteland merged with the human wrecking yard, was where Lyle and his friends had set up their camp. Humans an allied game leaks moved around the camp, using the high tree branches and the rusted out cars for shelter.

A Gula Muncher (half-goat, half-man, perpetually hungry-in the game, they were like attack dogs guarding camps and villages) was sitting watch with a human. Beneath the stubble of beard, wild hair, and filthy clothes, Wyatt recognized Reggie from the football team. Reggie and the Gula were sitting on a fallen tree, playing chess. The Gula had most of Reggie's pieces.

"Any trouble?" Lyle asked them.

Reggie gave the Gula an irritated glare. "Other than him cheating at chess, it's been quiet."

The Gula responded by moving his knight and took Reggie's queen. He gave the human a lipless grin.

"From now on, we play checkers," Reggie told him. "This the guy you grabbed from the monster squad?" he asked Lyle.

Lyle introduced, "Reggie, Wyatt."

"Nice to-" Reggie finally turned his attention from the game board to Lyle and the new arrival. As soon as he laid eyes on Wyatt, the ex-football player all but vaulted off the tree log and scrambled for his own club. He lunged at Wyatt until Lyle intervened. "Lyle, damn, man! This is a Doppleganger!"

"He's a human, Reg-I saved him from the Grinders," Lyle tried to calm down his friend.

More members of Lyle's camp came running, carrying clubs and pipes, not sure what the commotion was. The Gula Muncher dropped down onto its five legs and growled like an attack dog (an attack dog that looked like a hybrid goat-boy).

Wyatt recognized many of the faces-most were students and their family members. He saw Kowalski, McCobb, Maggie, and Natalie among the crowd. He supposed he should not be surprised that Dante and Max were not among them.

McCobb had overheard everything. He shared Reggie's opinion: "He can't be human. I know him…I know you. You're that computer geek, Waylon…"

"Wyatt." He discreetly moved to stand a bit behind Lyle.

Mike didn't lower his pipe. "Yeah, whatever, _Wyatt_-I heard you were in the computer lab when it blew up, so no way you're the real Wyatt. He's toast."

_That was disturbing news_. Wyatt blanched a little, not sure how to respond to that.

Lyle checked for himself. He took a knife from his coat, grabbed Wyatt's hand, and nicked Wyatt's palm before the boy could do more than let out a squeak of surprise. "Hey, ow!"

A bead of red pooled on Wyatt's palm. Lyle held up his hand so that the others could see it. "Blood, not data code, guys. He's human." Releasing Wyatt, Lyle took a step away from him and advised him: "This would be a real good time for you to tell me that long story that I won't believe."

Lyle sat in the spot that Reggie had abandoned, picking up a discarded club and holding it in a manner that suggested he might use it if he didn't like Wyatt's story.

Wyatt's brain was kicking into overdrive trying to piece together everything he'd learned in the very short time since he'd stepped through the time vortex. _Okay, so he's dead in this timeline. Angie's dead. Dante and Max were MIA. Lyle doesn't play video games…_

He frowned at Mike. "Wait, what 'computer lab'?"

Mike explained, "That super-secret computer government place where the accident was…where Maldark broke out of the game. You were there when Maldark blew up the place."

Lyle nodded. "That's right…you're that computer nerd. Quiz bowl champ. I thought I recognized you."

Wyatt was still processing. _Their Wyatt went after Maldark alone?_ _Without Dante and Lyle's help, there would have been no way to make the super weapon...their Wyatt wouldn't have had a chance…_

He sighed. _At least I don't have to convince them Maldark and the game leaks are real. I just have to convince them time travel is real. Yeah, that ought to be simple. _"Have you heard of a game character called a 'Doubleback'?"

"No clue. Like I said, I'm not a gamer geek," Lyle said.

Wyatt ignored the jab. "Where I come from, you are. You're one of the best. Level 72 sorcerer. A Doubleback is a game monster that messes with history. In the game, it can send you back to the beginning, erase all your quests, force you to start over. I.R.L., it used this-" He pulled the broken chronometer out of his jacket pocket. He let Lyle examine the device. "-to travel back in time and alter our history in the real world so that Maldark's invasion would succeed."

Lyle was on his feet again. "Are you saying-?"

He had Lyle's full attention now. That was good. "The Doubleback broke the timeline. My gamer clan, _our_ gamer clan, sent Maldark back into the game that night at the server station—the government place. We prevented his invasion, kept all this from happening. We've been making sure his monsters don't leak from the game ever since. I guess Maldark got tired of us messing up his plans and sent the Doubleback to change history, to make sure we never became a clan. Look at the date on the chronometer…September 30, 2011. What happened to you on September 30 last year?"

Lyle still couldn't decide if the kid was nuts. If he had even a far-fetched idea for how to take down Maldark, Lyle would humor him…for now. He unbuttoned his overcoat so that Wyatt could see the brace on his left knee.

"_This_ happened September 30 last year. It was the first play against Crosstown High. Their linebacker blindsided me before the ball was snapped. I went one way, my leg went the other. The guy ran away…the coaches found him in the locker room, swearing up and down that someone locked him in the janitor's closet the whole time and never went on the field." Lyle let his coat fall back in place. "The weird thing was…the guy that hit me…I remember his face looked like metal. I thought he was wearing a Halloween mask or something under his helmet."

Reggie and McCobb exchanged glances at that. Reggie's ears turned red.

_Okay, that explained the limp_. "The Doubleback. How did that stop you from becoming a gamer?" Wyatt wanted to know.

"Are you kidding?! I spent months having surgeries and physical therapy. I didn't have time for video games-I was trying to get back into the game that mattered! I was trying to save my scholarship, my damn future. If I'd have known Maldark was going to show up and ruin it anyway, I wouldn't have bothered," Lyle muttered with disgust.

"What happened the night Maldark broke out of the game? In this timeline?" Wyatt swallowed nervously, "Other than me getting blown up?"

_ Lyle's evening had gone from "bad" to "worse" to "holy frick" in quick succession._

_ He'd known that coming to the homecoming game was a bad idea before his foot had even touched the field. Lyle felt like he was on display the minute he entered the stadium. He was used to taking the field to the cheers of the spectators, with all eyes on him. There was a time not so very long ago when he had reveled in such attention. He would have posed for any camera pointed at him—school journalist, local newspaper, local bloggers, or reporters. He'd loved being their quarterback, their hero. _

_ Not that night. Crossing the field to the roar of the crowd, Lyle was self-conscious for what might have been the first time in his life. _

_ It might have been because the last time he'd stepped onto this field, he'd left with his knee and his whole universe shattered. Just glimpsing the white lines on the green grass brought back the memory of the bizarre metal mask, the crunch of bone, and the dizzying blaze of pain._

_ It might have been because his father was leading the way, glad-handing prospective supporters in the upcoming mayoral election._

_ Possibly, it was because Lyle was hobbling across the field on his crutches instead of running in triumphantly with his team._

_ Then again, it could have been the glut of reporters who jockeyed for the best angle to get a shot of the Hugginson men as they approached the stage._

_ Most likely, it was because the combination of all these things were being piled on to the worst few months of Lyle's young life. All he knew was that he already regretted being talked into this visit to Daventry Hills High School…'talked' implying that his dad had really given him a choice. Maynard Hugginson was a man accustomed to getting his way, and what he wanted now was to be re-elected as Mayor of Daventry Hills. As he reminded Lyle, his family was part of his image, therefore it was important that his family be seen._

_ Being at the game, watching from the bleachers, would have been painful for Lyle. However, he quickly decided that watching from the stage with his father, under the sympathetic eyes of the crowd and hearing the clicks of cameras, was going to be far worse._

_ Lyle stood behind the stage, dreading his introduction, while his dad's speech began. He couldn't sit because all he did was writhe in nervousness, wanting to be any place else. Pacing wasn't easy on his bum knee. So, he ended up standing, fidgeting, and wondering how many points his father would lose in the polls if Lyle turned around and left before he put in his appearance for the crowd. _

_ He tuned out most of the speech (his dad's assistant would signal when it was time for Lyle to take the stage). Lyle was concentrating on settling the butterflies in his stomach and staying out of the reporters' lines of sight…_

_ …until his father's words filtered into Lyle's troubled thoughts._

"…_but this night is not about me. This night is for you, Daventry Hills High School, and your fighting Trojans. It's to celebrate your spirit, which will never be defeated. But, there's someone here who understands better than any of us about the fighting spirit. Someone who shares your heart and your unbreakable will to win…my son, your quarterback, Lyle."_

_The crowd let out an approving roar, but Lyle shook his head._

Ex. Ex-quarterback._ Lyle wanted to correct him. His dad was seriously going to use his son's disability to score points in the polls. Somehow, Lyle was not surprised. "What are you doing?" he muttered to himself._

"_That's my question." _

_Lyle nearly lost his precarious balance when the voice from behind startled him. Mike McCobb had sneaked away from the rest of the Daventry Hills Trojans and was standing behind Lyle, face curled into a scowl. _Terrific…now Lyle was in the last place he wanted to be with the last person he wanted to see.

_He tried turning his back on the new quarterback, but McCobb moved so that he was sure to stay in Lyle's line of vision. Was he there to gloat now that he had the top spot on the team? "What do you want, McCobb?"_

_Of all things, McCobb sounded pissed off. Lyle hadn't seen the guy since the night of his last game, so he couldn't imagine what he'd done. _

"_You know what I freaking want, Hugginson. Call of the goon squad, man!" Mike demanded._

"_Not a clue what you're talking about."_

_Mike had heard the story of how the mystery player from Crosstown High- the mystery player with the metal face mask-smashed Lyle's knee during the first play of the first game that season, smashed it and then disappeared into the crowd. It had been Mike's bad luck to have been the kid who had lost the quarterback slot to Hugginson during tryouts and his bad judgment to let the whole school know how he felt about coming in second place. It had been his worse luck to have been late to Lyle's fateful game due to car trouble. He'd arrived at the game just in time to see the ambulance whisk away the school's beloved quarterback._

_The speculation about Lyle's accident and Mike's coincidental arrival after the fact had started rumors. "They think it was me."_

_That was the most ridiculous thing Lyle had heard. "I never said it was you. I told them the guy had a mask."_

_McCobb frowned. "You know the whole team thinks I was the kid in the freak mask…don't bother denying it. You're still the king of Daventry Hills High School. You know everything that goes on here."_

"_It's kind of hard for me to keep up on gossip from the hospital."_

_If Lyle was looking for sympathy, he wasn't going to get it from Mike. He had the whole school to fuss and fawn over him. Mike, on the other hand, had a football season to try to salvage. "We'll throw you another pity party real soon, Lyle, but in the meantime you need to start thinking of other people instead of feeling sorry for yourself, Hugginson. You need to get your team in line."_

_ Lyle's temper flared as the accusations hit home. Already tense, he was now defensive. "They aren't my team anymore, McCobb. You're the QB."_

"_They're your team whether you're on the field or not, and they aren't going to listen to me unless you get it through to them that I didn't have anything to do with your accident. I can't be the QB for a bunch of guys who don't trust me. In case you haven't noticed, we haven't won a single game since your…without you. We're losing because they won't listen to me." _

Now who was angling for the pity party? _"Sounds like you're doing a bang up job," Lyle said._

_McCobb rubbed the bridge of his nose, gathering his patience and wondering why he'd thought he could get through that ego of Hugginson's. "I'm not the only one who needs a winning season, Hugginson. We don't all have a rich daddy to pay our way through college. Some of us need a football scholarship."_

_Lyle moved faster than McCobb expected, considering he was on crutches and recovering from knee surgery. Suddenly, they were nose-to-nose, and Mike could see the other players beginning to notice what was going on behind the stage. _

"_Lot easier to get the scouts' attention now that you're the QB."_

_Mike shook his head. "Yeah, I've heard that shit, too. Winning games gets their attention. I was counting on a good high school career to get me into college. Do you really think I'd risk that by taking out our best player to try to get some glory for myself? I might as well break my own knee."_

_Lyle took a step back. McCobb was right, and he might be a cramp and a half, but he wasn't a cheater. He was a so-so student with a mom who waitressed to support him, not the sort who was going to risk his slot on the team by knee-capping another player (or the type for metal robot masks). Lyle knew this, but in a twisted way, while laid up in the hospital and then at home and weeks of physical therapy, it had helped having someone on whom to focus the blame. In a weird way, Lyle was kind of grateful Mike was calling him on being an ass. _

_Misunderstanding Lyle's silence, Mike tried another appeal: "Okay, I know you don't give a crap about me. I'm okay with that. It's not like we were tight or anything. What about them?" Mike pointed to Reggie, Kowalski, and the other Trojans. It was on his tongue to give Lyle a full earful about the lockers full of garbage, the blue dye in his shampoo, the fumbled plays, the times he'd ended up wearing his lunch due to an accidentally outstretched foot, and the hundred other bits of 'bad luck' he knew owed to his team mates. But, Lyle had his own problems. He didn't need to know about the crap the guys were doing to drive out their scapegoat and Mike was not a snitch anyway. _

_McCobb settled for saying: "They're so busy trying to me look bad out of loyalty to you that they're trashing their chances, too. Is that what you want?"_

_Reggie's voice interrupted: "What are you doing?"_

_The question had been directed at McCobb and Reggie's tone had been one of warning. Lyle was the one to answer. "Mike's just welcoming me back. Right?" He gave McCobb a look that said 'just go with it'._

_Maynard Hugginson's voice boomed over the speakers, "Come on up here, Lyle." Lyle waited, watching the two players, who glared each other down._

_Mike was the first to back off, nodding slowly to Lyle. "Right. Good to see you, Hugginson." He retreated, feeling Reggie's stare burn holes in the back of his head._

"_Lyle!" his father called again._

_He looked at the stage, still hesitating until Reggie finally shrugged off McCobb. "I think he means you," Reggie reminded him. Finally breaking into grin and working awkwardly around Lyle's crutches, he gave his friend a handshake and a one-armed hug. "Good to see you, man."_

"_You, too." Lyle meant it. He hadn't known how he'd feel being back here, but it was amazing how quickly the sense of camaraderie returned. These were the guys who had his back on the field, the ones who had visited him almost every day since the accident, even on the worst days when Lyle bogged down in despair and lashed out at anyone foolish enough to cross his path. He might doubt himself, but he should never have doubted them. Except… "And Reg? Whatever's been going on, tell the guys this stuff with Mike…it's over. Got it?"_

_Reggie's face darkened with a last burst of anger, but he simply took a breath and let it go. Lyle was their leader-on the field, off the field, whatever happened. If he said it, it was as good as done. "For you, brother," he promised._

_Satisfied that he'd at least tried to atone for that mistake, Lyle faced the stage with a fresh surge of dread. His team was one thing. They'd seen the worst of him over the past few months. Being trotted out for strangers was another thing altogether. He felt very much on display as he crossed stage on his crutches to join his father at the microphone. Flash bulbs nearly blinded him as his dad wrapped an arm around his shoulder and posed for the eager media._

"_It's been three months since Lyle has played on this field. We're here tonight so that you-the ones who have offered your support during this challenging time-will be the first to know that Lyle will return to the team for his senior year, one year from now," Maynard announced to the crowd._

_The news was greeted with thunderous applause, wild cheers (many of them from the direction of the Trojan's team bench), and repeated chanting of Lyle's name…but this was all news to Lyle. His dad did _not_ just say what Lyle thought he'd said._

_The hoopla drowned the words out when Lyle covers the microphone and called to the crowd ino protest. "Wait! No! I'm not-"_

_His Dad pulled him aside before the enthusiastic spectators, or worse the reporters, overheard._

_Lyle was somewhere between full-blown fury and a panic attack. "What the hell was that?! Why did you promise them I'd try for the team next year-I'm not even done with p.t. yet! The doctor said-" _

_His father's mouth set into a firm line that brooked no argument. He knew everything that the doctors knew…but more, he knew his son. He'd been with Lyle for the surgeries and the painful physical therapy that followed. His son was not one to back away from a challenge. On the contrary, Lyle would accept a dare for no other reason than someone telling him it could not be done._

_That was before the injury. Maynard had seen what was happening to his son during his recovery. Doubt was creeping in. Fear was poisoning his spirit. If fear and doubt got the better of him, it would destroy him. The future he'd worked for would vanish in a flash. The natural leader and gifted athlete Lyle had become would be replaced by a boy with regrets and self-loathing. His father would simply not allow it. His son was a fighter. It was time for him to start fighting. He just needed the right motivation._

"_The doctors don't know what you need, Lyle. They don't know you. I'm giving you motivation, because you haven't been able to find it on your own since you got injured. You won't get back on your feet by feeling sorry for yourself. You have incentive now, you have people counting on you and looking to you for inspiration. That's what you need. Are you going to give up and let them down?"_

Had he lost his damned mind?!_ Lyle could barely walk on crutches right now. "I can't do what's impossible-"_

_Maynard's heels were dug in. Lyle could see it. "_You_ are what's defeating you, Lyle, and I'm sick of it. I've spoken to your doctors; this is not a career-ending injury, and I'm not going to let you turn it into one because you're afraid you might fail."_

"_I have my own plan."_

"_I'd love to hear it." Maynard crossed his arms and waited patiently._

_Lyle opened his mouth-and had no answer. _

_His dad nodded. "Son, you need a better plan. Now you have one: Back on the field. One year." He put a hand on Lyle's arm. "Now you prepare: What comes next?"_

_Lyle shook him off. "Me failing in front of the whole school. Public humiliation." His dad raised an eyebrow and started to interrupt again, but Lyle wouldn't let him. "I'm serious. It's not going to happen this time. I'm not doing this. No 'prepare'. No 'prevail'. This is nothing but a publicity stunt for your campaign, letting the reporters follow your poor injured son while he kills himself trying to jump through your hoops! No more! I'm done!"_

_He turned his back on the crowd, the reporters, and his dad. Trying to storm away on crutches was not easy, but he gave it his best shot. Lyle heard his dad making excuses and apologies to the crowd and shouting for him to come back-_

_-Then a rumble in the distance drowned out his dad's call. _

_People screamed, at first only in surprise at the unexpected sound. The spectators jumped to their feet, standing on the bleachers to seek the source of the sound. They turned in time to see an explosion not far away. _

_Lyle had seen news reports about unexplained explosions in Daventry Hills over the last few weeks. Campers had reported strange creatures in the wooded areas of town. Mysterious fireballs had been caught on camera setting campsites ablaze. One transient had even claimed that a warehouse fire had been set by a fire-breathing dragon. Citizens had blamed the gas company and threatened lawsuits over what they were sure were leaking pipelines._

_This explosion came from the direction of a computer server station on the outskirts of the city. Lyle's first thought was that the military was probably doing some secret experiments out there. _

_Then he saw the beam of purple energy shoot from the ground to the sky, generating a massive dome of purple energy over the city. Nothing the military had invented (as far as he knew) could create something like that, not unless they were hiring graduates from Hogwarts or something._

_Lyle would always remember the absolute silence that fell over the crowd as hundreds of people stared in wonder and disbelief at the sight. The screams did not begin until the wall of purple energy headed right at the school and the football field._

_People began to run, their cries filling the night air. Lyle could see the wall was coming too fast to outrun it, even if he could run on crutches. He was practically lifted off his feet by his father's personal aides as he and Maynard were hustled to hide beneath the stage. It was an absurd idea, for Lyle had already seen the energy mass tearing apart everything in its path. The wooden stage would not protect them, but he was too terrified to argue._

_Half of the team, including Reggie, Kowalski, and Mike, were already crouched beneath the stage, along with some of the other students. Lyle recognized a few of them—Natalie, Gus, some red-head science geek girl, some of the guys who hung out in the skate park, a Goth musician. Grunting as his knee resisted the motion, Lyle dragged himself forward so that he could peek from beneath the stage. His heart slammed in his ears, trying to kick its way out of his chest, but he swallowed hard. If he was about to be vaporized by-whatever that was-Lyle wanted to see it coming. He felt the motion of others joining him there; his father appeared at his right shoulder, Reggie and McCobb at his left._

_Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. As he watched, Lyle saw that the energy was not destroying what it touched, it was transforming buildings and trees and vehicles into new objects that were vaguely familiar. It took a second for him to realize what he was seeing: A Lava Belcher's volcano, a Scurr hollow, a medieval tavern, a Skelehawk's nest…those were all from an online game called Conqueror of all Worlds. _

_Lyle blinked. _Was this a prank? Special EFX? Had he accidentally taken too many pain pills that afternoon?

_He shut his eyes, not sure what the energy field would do to his flesh, but fully expecting to die. _

_When he opened his eyed, the stadium had been reshaped…the metal grandstands had been turned sideways and twisted into grotesque shapes resembling jagged metal teeth jutting out of the earth. Smoke was rising from fissures in the ground. Torches had replaced the electrical lights, burning unnatural blue flames. The small golf cart that the groundskeepers used stretched into a form so wicked looking that…well, Lyle didn't know how to describe it, but if Darth Vader used a golf cart, that would be the one. It had spiked hubcaps, a huge engine with a cow catcher mounted on the front, and he almost swear the headlights had eyelids that blinked. The school itself was half-collapsed and dark. Lyle hoped no one had been inside and didn't want to imagine what had happened if they weren't._

_He glanced around, checking that everyone else was still alive. His dad was staring at him with a baffled frown. Lyle saw why when he caught sight of his new clothing._

_Lyle was wearing a long, gray coat and sunglasses (which oddly enough still allowed him to see perfectly in the dark of evening) like his game avatar, Wizza. Lyle startled at that. Why was he dressed as an avatar? He had only played the game a few times before his injury, not even long enough to join a good gamer clan… _

_The spectators, including his father, were dressed in rags, like medieval peasants. As for the team, their pads had changed into tarnished iron armor. In combination with the burgundy uniforms they now wore, they actually faintly resemble real Trojans._

_Reggie poked at Lyle's new overcoat with a finger. "What are you wearing?"_

_McCobb was the only one not distracted by the change of attire and environment. He was staring at something in the direction where the field had originated. He pointed to that something. "I'm more worried about _that_ guy than Hugginson's outfit."_

_Lyle saw who he was talking about it, and his last hope that his sanity was intake faded away. Insanity was the only way to explain what he was seeing, because he for damned sure was _not_ seeing a demented warlock from a computer game walking across the football field, and there definitely was _not_ an army of hybrid porcupine-human men walking behind the sorcerer._

_But it was the game wizard. Worse, the dome of purple energy was being generated by a large purple orb that floated above the wizard's outstretched left hand. His right hand grasped a black metal scepter._

"_Maldark," Lyle gasped._

_Reggie's brow furrowed. _Okay, Lyle was a sharp guy, and for whatever reason he recognized the apparition that had manifested on the field. Reggie would take his word for it. There was just one thing Reggie wanted to know:_ "Who's 'Maldark'?" _

_The bleachers twisted into an arched gateway so that Maldark could make a royal entrance. His Three-Toed Tenrecs flanked him, herding the terrified and confused spectators like cattle. Now, Lyle could see that every human was dressed as either peasants, slaves, or avatars. The Tenrecs were quick to contain those dressed as avatars, ordering the 'game warriors' to surrender. A Mesmer stood at Maldark's side, subduing the other humans into surrender with its hypnotic show of light. People who still persisted in escaping were cut down by the Tenrecs' quills. Lyle is trying to remember if Tenrec needles were poisonous or just sedatives. He hoped it was the latter._

_They had not spied the small group huddled beneath the stage. Yet._

_Maldark spoke to the silent Mesmer. "Humans have a vile smell…like cowardice and defeat." He raised his voice to be heard above the dwindling screams of the crowd, but his tone was calm and commanding. "You will decide now, each of you, your place in the new world-in my new world. I have no particular use for any of you besides as a labor force in building my kingdom. You will have no rights, no liberties, and no mercy for dissidence and disobedience. If anyone is unhappy with this arrangement, say so now."_

_Mike's fingers curled into fists, beating into the dirt because he knew better than to rush out there and try to beat on the sorcerer's face. He scanned the faces of those being rounded up. His mom and little brother were at this game. His instincts cried for him to go to them, make sure they were alive. Intuition told him such effort would only get him slapped into chains like the others. "Who is that neuron? Is this a freaking joke?"_

_Lyle shook his head. "No joke-I just don't get how this can be real…Maldark's a character in an online game."_

"_How would you know?" Reggie asked._

"_I-saw a commercial for it. On ESPN." Lyle had no idea why he was lying. Computer-spawned bad guys were taking over the freaking city. Why was he worried if the team found out he was secretly a gamer geek?_

"_He's right," Gus confirmed. "I've seen that game."_

_The Mesmer was putting more people under Maldark's spell. Tenrecs were putting shackles on the prisoners, separating them into groups according to some pre-arranged plan. The orb in Maldark's hand continued to expand the energy dome. Lyle figured the whole city had to be covered by now._

_Maynard ordered the boys: "Now's our chance…while they're preoccupied. Head for that cart…or whatever it is."_

_Mike was searching for a way to sneak past the invaders. "What are the odds of us getting out of here without one of those monsters killing us?"_

"_Getting worse the longer we wait." Lyle's attention was still on the purple orb. "What do you think will happen if we take that stone? The one generating that force field?"_

_Reggie's eyes widened. "You mean before or after we die?"_

_Mike agreed. "You have got to be kidding, Hugginson."_

_They wanted to hide, to run, and Lyle didn't blame them. But, what was the point of running? Maldark was on the loose. How and why could be answered later. He had half the city already. If they didn't do something, that force field might cover the whole state…the whole world. For some reason-maybe it was the costume Maldark had forced on him, maybe it was seeing people he knew being hurt and captured, or maybe this surreal invasion was just the last straw in an utterly shitty year-the idea of Maldark conquering _this_ world twisted something deep inside Lyle, pulled at him to act. _

_Maynard grabbed his son's arm. "Just a minute…you are not going to do something that reckless."_

_Lyle glanced from Maldark to the transformed groundskeepers' cart. He wondered how many people it could hold and, more importantly, if it could outrun the monsters. He decided that it just might. The only question was could _he _outrun the monsters? There was only one way to find out._

_A smile spread across his face. "Actually, I think I am," he told his dad._

_He looked at the guys, Gus, and Natalie. They all were plainly and rightfully frightened, but they all nodded. _

_Maynard saw the unspoken consensus among the teenagers and tried to reason with them. "Lyle-"_

"_Like you said, Dad, I just need a plan. Soon as we distract those goons, you head for the cart." Lyle crawled to the other side of the stage, where the team had been sitting. The others followed. He risked sticking his arm from under the cover to feel for something. He came back with a mesh bag filled with the game footballs. "Mike, you're the QB. Back me up?"_

"_Cover you? What do you think you're doing?!" Maynard whisper-yelled._

_Mike nodded. Lyle took one of the footballs and handed the rest to Mike and Reggie. "Cover me. Watch out for those porcupine cramps."_

"_That's easily the weirdest thing anyone's ever said to me," Mike mumbled._

_Lyle had already lost the crutches in the dive beneath the stage. He felt the brace was still on his leg beneath his bizarre new clothes. He wasn't planning to get far with his knee, he just had to stay on his feet long enough to get that orb._

_As he prepared to break cover, his father suddenly scrambled out from under the stage and shouted to the invaders: "Lord Maldark!"_

_The monsters whirled on him. The Tenrecs aimed their quills, and Hugginson held his hands out in supplication so monsters could see that he was no threat. "-as mayor of Daventry Hills, on behalf of these people, we agree to your terms and ask your mercy."_

_Maldark sneered at the human. It was only the entertainment of watching him beg for mercy that stayed the warlock's hand. Plus, a man of authority might be of use in minimizing the resistance of the human sheep. "Mayor, are you? And you speak for the city as well?"_

_Maynard nodded. "I do." The warlock raised an eyebrow expectantly. "That is, with your permission…my lord."_

_The warlock preened…until a football suddenly knocked the orb out of his hand._

_Maynard saw his son and the other teenagers burst out of their hiding place. Lyle had thrown the football, catching Maldark by surprise. When the orb fell to the ground, Lyle hobbled after it. The Tenrecs shot their needles at the boy, and his father yelled: "Lyle, don't-!"_

_Maldark bellowed, "What-?!" Seeing his orb in danger, he pointed his scepter at the rebellious human child._

_Which was the moment that McCobb tossed another ball right into Maldark's face. The warlock bellowed in pain and fury._

_Reggie was right behind, tackling the warlock and pinning him (and especially that scepter) until Lyle could snag the orb. Lyle was wincing as the hopping/running sent stabs of pain through his knee. _

_Natalie and Gus ran for the groundskeepers' cart, screaming all the way. Natalie made it. Gus, however, was caught when he mistakenly met the hypnotic stare of the Mesmer. He moved towards the metallic avatar robotically. Natalie shouted for him to stop, but knew it would be suicidal to go after him. She frantically searched for some kind of key to the vehicle, crouching down in the driver's seat to try to hide._

_The Tenrecs were more concerned with the attack on their master. They unleashed another volley of quills upon the humans, but the points pinged harmlessly off the boys' new 'armor'. The team ran interference, shielding Lyle as he snatched up the orb. _

_He looked up. The energy dome was still there, but it was no longer expanding. He would not discover until later that the dome was twenty miles in diameter and had Daventry Hills cut off from the outside world._

_Kowalski made his way to the cart just as the engine roared to life. Natalie waved him into the back seat as she gunned the vehicle towards Lyle and the others. _

_Maldark's fingers sprouted blades from his nails and descended to stab Reggie…but McCobb saw this. He tore the scepter out of Maldark's flailing hand and used it to crack the warlock on the skull. Maldark was stunned, but not quite unconscious. Reggie jumped away from the fallen avatar. He and McCobb helped Lyle to his feet as Natalie braked the cart to a stop beside them. _

"_Lyle!" _

_He heard his father's shout and turned, craning his neck to see past the throng of Tenrec mutants closing in on the cart. Lyle saw his Dad pushing his way around the monsters, knocking aside several of them with impressive ease. _

_Maynard nearly reached the boys, until the Mesmer stepped into his path, letting loose the full hypnotic force of its powers. _

"_Dad!" Lyle shouted back. His father did not answer, did not move. Obediently, he fell into place with the other captives behind the Mesmer. _

_Maldark, however, had heard the exchange. He sneered at the Hugginsons. "Ah—'dad'?"_

_Lyle realized their mistake. Heart leaping into his throat, he tried to jump out of the vehicle, to reach his dad before the warlock. He felt strong hands hold him back and realized it was Kowalski and Reggie. "Lyle, you can't!" Reggie shouted. Lyle nearly lost the orb in the struggle to break their grip; McCobb snatched it from his hand and tucked it safely into the cart._

_Maldark held his fingerblades to unmoving Maynard's throat. "Return the Genesis Orb, whelp, or 'dad' will die," he hissed._

"_Go, Natalie!" Kowalski shouted._

_She gunned the cart for all it had-which was actually quite a bit, since Maldark's spell had leveled the vehicle up a few dozen notches. The overcrowded cart nearly did a wheelie as it careened out of the stadium; mutants scattered before it. One Tenrec stuck out its arm and snatched Gus out of the cart as it passed. _

"_Touch my dad, and I swear I'll find a way to destroy it!" Lyle screamed back at Maldark. His red-eyed glare was the last thing Lyle saw before the cart shot out of the twisted gates of the stadium and into the apocalyptic streets of what had been Daventry Hills..._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: "Level Up" is not mine, I am not profiting from this unless you count having fun playing with the characters for a while…_

**4**

Wyatt was pale by the end of Lyle's story. He didn't ask what happened to Maynard Hugginson after that-he remembered the broadcast only too well. Wyatt had spent the past year in his universe reveling in Never Fail's ability to beat down anything that leaked from the game, including Maldark himself, that he'd never stopped to imagine what might have happened if Maldark's invasion had succeeded.

_Maldark's been watching. We've been playing the game and barding leaks, and he's been scoping us out, figuring out our weaknesses…he knew exactly how take out Lyle. _Wyatt paced in circles, momentarily forgetting the eyes of those in the camp were watching him. He wasn't even aware when he began thinking aloud. "That explains how Maldark kept you out of Never Fail. There were two Doublebacks. One went after you. I still made it to the server station-of course I got myself blown up, but still, that means the second leak didn't come after me. The other one must have gone after Dante. If I could just fix this chron-"

Wyatt heard gasps and remembered the others. He stopped his pacing and turned back to Lyle.

All activity in the camp had come to a dead stop. Every last one of Lyle's crew was glaring at Wyatt. Some had raised their weapons again like they might actually attack him this time. The Gula Muncher growled and licked it lips (Wyatt hoped it wasn't planning on munching on _him_). Lyle had stopped snickering at Wyatt's wild tale. His mouth was curled into a scowl and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Uneasy, Wyatt quickly asked, "What just happened? What'd I say?"

They all offered suggestions of what to do with Wyatt-most of their ideas involved stringing him up by various parts of his body-but Lyle held up his hand, signaling the others to hold back for a second. If this kid didn't know about the invasion, hadn't heard about Lyle's accident, then what he'd just said might have been another innocent mistake. _It had better be a mistake. Thirty of us all heard him wrong._

"'Dante'? You're friends with that Grinder?" Lyle asked carefully.

Wyatt got why 'Grinder' was a bad word, having just been chased by them. But Grinders were the bad guys, obviously. They were _Maldark's_ bad guys. Lyle didn't seriously think Dante was one of them? "Wait…what?"

Lyle grabbed a fistful of Wyatt's shirt and lifted him off his feet. "Any friend of that traitor is not-"

Wyatt wheezed out a protest. "I think you're talking about someone else…"

"I don't think so." Lyle's grin was pure hatred.

"Dante Onterro? Little guy? Braces? Strange odor? Bat crap crazy?" Wyatt clarified. Lyle couldn't be talking about their friend.

Lyle raised his voice, trying to get that dumbfounded look off the dark-haired boy's face. "Who do you think was chasing you back there? That was your buddy, Dante, and his Grinders. They're Maldark's goons, his bounty hunters. Sold out their own planet for food and a comfy place to live and…oh yeah, to save their own skins."

Wyatt stared him in the eye, searching for any hint that Lyle was joking. "Are you kidding?"

"_Do I freaking sound like I'm kidding_!?" Lyle let Wyatt drop to the ground, having to step away from the kid before he gave in to the urge to try smacking comprehension into him. This kid wasn't the one Lyle was angry with.

Of course, the strange boy wasn't helping his cause by arguing. "I don't believe you."

"Not my problem," Lyle snapped at him.

Wyatt walked right after Lyle, not caring about the death glares the others were giving him. "No, you're wrong. Dante's crazy, yes, but not _that_ kind of crazy."

"Why don't you tell that to the people he's hunted down for Maldark? This isn't your timeline, remember?" Lyle sarcastically air-quoted the words 'your timeline'.

Wyatt recalled Angie's poster with the line across her picture and the words 'executed by the Grinders'. The image of his friend pointing a weapon at her and firing…_No. No way. _"He would never join Maldark. Not in _any_ timeline. And I thought you didn't believe me about the Doubleback?"

Lyle finally turned and faced him again. Wyatt was persistent, if nothing else. If they were talking about someone who wasn't a bottom-feeder like Onterro, Lyle would have respected the guy's loyalty to his friend.

It was time to ask the question that would prove Wyatt was full of crap, Lyle decided. "All right, convince me. In this 'timeline' where you, me, and that cramp were a 'game clan', how did we stop Maldark's invasion?"

They'd been sworn to secrecy in the real timeline, but Wyatt supposed there was no need to worry about 'spoilers' for Max's game anymore. "I pulled our weapons out of the game. Mad computer skills and all that. When Maldark invaded, we-you, me, and Dante-merged our weapons into one super-weapon. Max told us how to do it. It almost killed us, but it sent Maldark back into the game."

Lyle blinked. _Was it even remotely possible this guy was on the level? Had he really just told them how to defeat Maldark?_ "Could you do that again if we had weapons? Could it kill him, not just send him back into the game?"

"I didn't do it-_you_ were the sorcerer. You had the Thunder Pole, you did the spell that merged the weaopns. Level 72 sorcerer, remember? Well, level 68 at the time…" Lyle cleared his throat impatiently, so Wyatt finished his answer, "I could tell you how you did it."

Reggie couldn't believe Lyle was buying into this. He challenged Wyatt. "How come you're the only one who remembers any of this?" A few others nodded in shared disbelief.

Wyatt had been wondering the same thing since he stepped out of the time vortex. "Good question. Maybe it was the chronometer? I was holding it when the Doublebacks went through the vortexes. Maybe it shielded me, or the vortexes created some kind of time bubble that I'm caught in. I don't know…wait!"

He had an idea. Digging out his cellphone, he thumbed through the photo gallery, glad to find that the pictures from the other timeline were still there, including one of the "ambush" photos Angie had taken of Wyatt, Lyle, and Dante shortly after they'd defeated Maldark, back when Lyle and Dante were still reluctant to hang out together I.R.L.

He passed the phone to Lyle. Lyle studied it in disbelief, especially at the football jacket he's wearing-which had the current season's year stitched on its sleeve. It looked real enough, at least, Lyle could see no signs that it had been photo-shopped or otherwise faked.

"Okay, maybe I believe you a little bit," he finally admitted.

"So you'll help me figure out what the Doubleback did to Dante?"

Lyle tossed the phone back to Wyatt. He needed to stop listening to this kid's ramblings. Wyatt was a computer genius, so it wouldn't have been that hard for him to fake a cell phone picture. Lyle could understand why this place would drive someone to dream up fantasies about parallel universes free of game mutants and struggles to survive. Another few months in the swamp and Lyle might be ready for a padded room himself.

"No way." Wyatt started to argue again, and Lyle cut him off: "Listen, I'm doing you a favor. Stay away from the city, and especially from that weasel, if you want to survive in this timeline, Wyatt. This isn't your Daventry Hills and these aren't the people you remember. In case you haven't noticed, you're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy."

That was the final word as far as Lyle was concerned. He wasn't doing Wyatt any favors by getting sucked into the hallucination, too. Someone had to be the voice of reality for him. He turned and headed into the camp, leaving Wyatt to think about what he'd said.

"Can I at least be anyone but Dorothy in that metaphor?" Wyatt shouted after him.

_Well, he didn't throw me out of the camp completely. _Wyatt sighed. _That was a start. _Lyle never did like to acknowledge his inner belief in science fiction and the supernatural in front of the cool kids in school, maybe admitting faith in wild tales of time travel was no different. He might have better luck if he could get Lyle away from the snickers and eye-rolls of the rest of the camp's refugees. He'd try again later, when his friend had some time to think about what he'd said.

It wasn't as if Wyatt had any place to go.

There was nothing rude as being awakened by Lord Maldark, but Dante had decided that being awakened by a metal chip stuck in his neck that sent currents of energy into every nerve in his body was a close second. _Implants and electrocution…the warlock had a real sick way of saying 'hello'._

Dante was moving even before he was fully awake. Still blinking sleep out of his eyes, his hand automatically fumbled to the empty half of his 'mattress' (which was basically trash bags stuffed with cardboard and newspapers). His fingers brushed a V-shaped object and the curves of a metal mask. He shoved both objects deeper beneath the threadbare blanket, out of sight, seconds before the figure of the Mesmer appeared in the doorway.

The avatar's face already glowed purple. It projected a life-sized hologram of Lord Maldark. The image glared down at the teenager. "Sleeping the sleep of a wretched failure?" Maldark greeted. He looked around at the slovenly room in disgust. Humans were repulsive normally…but this human child was particularly gross. "This place looks like the lair of a Trash Troll. Humans really are filthy creatures."

Dante didn't think it was wise to point out Maldark's hand in wrecking the place that he now called 'home'. His room had once been the teacher's lounge in Daventry Hills High School, one of the few buildings in the city not completely demolished or transformed into something out of the _Conqueror Of All Worlds_ game. It was pretty much the same sinkhole that Dante remembered…except it had a few more crumbling walls, assorted computer-spawned vermin living in the ventilation system, several wings that had burned up, and several more wings that had been repainted with assorted murals and graffiti courtesy of the group of boys who lived in the school. They didn't even have electricity to make the place more comfortable. The Grinders' headquarters got light and heat from fires that burned in metal trash cans. It was a cesspool, but it wasn't as if Dante had any place else to go.

"I resent that-you can't get the fully appreciate how filthy it is without the smell," Dante covered his nervousness with the feeble joke. "What can I do for your today, boss?"

Maldark was seething. "You allowed the human to escape." Briefly, the hologram of the warlock was replaced by an image of the curly-haired kid from the tavern.

Dante climbed out of the bed, pulling on a worn out gray t-shirt. As soon as he'd pulled on the garment, it transformed into the familiar black tunic that identified the teenager as a 'game warrior'. He was sick of the uniform and unable to escape it due to Maldark's magic. Anyone who had ever created an avatar in the game was cursed to only wear the uniform of their digital alter-egos. It made the 'game warriors' easier for Maldark's minions to spot among the throngs of human slaves…easier to spot for execution.

"Give me a break. We didn't get a head's up that he was at the tavern before your guys scared him off." Dante trudged out of his room as quickly as he could, before Maldark saw anything else hidden among the heaps of trash in there. The Mesmer followed, making sure the hologram of the overlord kept pace with the boy. "Besides, that Hugginson cramp messed us up."

Dante moved down the main stairway to the hallway of the old cafeteria wing. Most of the Grinders slept there, passed out on the benches, tables, chairs, or stretched out on the stairs. A few of them were still up and around. Every boy there had an implant identical to the torture device in Dante's neck.

The large form of Rat was crouched in one corner, scribbling on the walls. The youngest Grinder rarely slept because of his hyperactivity. His near-constant activity drove the other boys crazy. When they'd shared quarters in Juvenile Hall, the boys had been on the brink of knocking Rat out to make him be still. Dante had figured out that giving the kid a task before bed time kept him occupied and mostly quiet so the rest of them could sleep. Last night, Dante had set up Rat to play tic-tac-toe on the walls of the cafeteria. All four walls were now covered with games, all of them ended in a draw.

And, of course, Deacon lurked at the far end of the hallway. He was obscured by the shadows cast from the glow of the fires in the trash cans, but Dante could feel the creepy boy silently watching everything. Deacon had rolled up his sleeve and was either drawing on his arm or giving himself a home tattoo…neither of which would have surprised Dante.

"Ah yes, the Hugginson whelp…you were supposed to dispatch _him_ and retrieve my Genesis Orb months ago. You have failed that task as well…nor have you brought me that dissident Mahtava," Maldark reminded him.

"In fairness, Saast was right there and he didn't catch Mahtava either…"

Maldark wasn't amused. "Perhaps you need a reminder that failure will not be tolerated?"

Rat stopped mid-game, and Deacon froze mid-whatever the hell he was doing. The latter climbed to his feet, watching the exchange between the hologram and the Grinders' leader. They knew as well as Dante what kind of 'reminder' Maldark had in mind.

Dante tried: "I don't think-"

Maldark agreed. "No. You don't."

The hologram raised his right hand, to display the dreaded ring. A simple touch of one finger to the stone of Maldark's ring, and suddenly the implant in Rat's neck unleashed a surge of energy through the boy's body. He let out a scream that propelled the rest of the sleeping group into instant wakefulness. They scrambled to their feet, seeking the source of the screams, and sized up the situation immediately. Some reached for Rat, instinctively wanting to help, but none dared interfere. Most turned their gaze to Dante to see what he would do.

Dante cursed. He put himself between the hologram and the boy who writhed on the hallway floor (as if that was going to help). "You're bounty hunters haven't caught Hugginson either! You haven't caught him, and you have his freaking dad!"

Maldark ignored the accusation. Rat continued to scream.

"Kill us and you have to come out of your castle and hunt us filthy humans yourself."

The warlock wrinkled his nose at that notion.

"Look, I'll get them! Just give me a-" Dante added.

As quickly he'd attacked, Maldark let Rat go. The Grinders moved to help their fallen friend, all except for Deacon, whose frosty blue eyes were fixed on the hologram and their dark-haired leader.

Maldark finally acknowledged Dante. "One day. Bring me one of the Dissidents before this day is over, or I'll execute you instead. And never speak to me with impudence again."

He gave Dante one last shock with the implant, just to be certain he'd made his point. Then, the hologram shut down and the Mesmer retreated.

Dante and Deacon moved for Rat at the same time. Deke glared at Dante with a look that could have frozen an Eskimo. "Damn it, man, you gotta stop this! Maldark's going to figure out what you're doing; then he'll kill all of us!"

Rat struggled to sit up, determined to prove he could handle whatever the warlock dished out as well as the older boys. Dante frowned at the angry red welt around Rat's implant. His own neck burned, but he ignored it. Dante snapped back at Deacon. "What do you think Maldark's going to do when we finish off his 'Most Wanted' list and he doesn't need us to do his dirty work anymore?"

"Dante knows what he's doing. He got us out of that dungeon," Rat put in.

"Better to be lucky than smart." Deacon stood, succeeding in being intimidating between his considerable height and muscles. "Figure out a way to get that freak off our backs, Onterro."

It was a challenge, and Dante had to answer it. The last thing he needed was Deacon in charge of a group of frightened, borderline insane group like the Grinders. He straightened to stand eye-to-neck with Deacon. "Or what? You want to try surviving here without me?"

The older boy frowned. He gaze swept over the motley group. Most of them were lemmings, willing to follow anyone who knew how to keep the invading monsters off their backs. Onterro might be the village idiot, but they were all dependent upon his scant experience with the game and its monsters. The minute that changed, Deacon would personally rid them of the idiot (if Maldark didn't do it first). Until then, Deacon had no choice but to back off. Dante was grateful for that. If Deacon had decided to beat him to a pulp, there'd be very little Dante could do to stop it, and he has his doubts the others would jump to his defense.

Deacon's retreat broke some of the tension in the hallway. The boys retreated to their places in the hallway, uncomfortable silence settling over the group.

Dante felt something cold press against the metal shard in his neck. Guy had appeared (the game Leak had a sixth sense for knowing when he was needed) with medicine for the implant burns. He passed one cold compress to Rat and another to Dante.

"I'm fine, Guy." Nevertheless, he accepted the dirty cloth for what little relief it gave from the ache.

Guy spoke quietly, so only Dante heard the warning: "For now-if you wish to remain so, I suggest you find a way to appease Lord Maldark." It wasn't just Maldark that concerned the man. Guy doubted that Dante would be able to hold off Deacon's power ploys for much longer.

Dante nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'll think of something."

He just had no idea what…

Lyle was perched at the top of a stack of rusted cars in the middle of the swamp, which was a good vantage point for watching over the camp. He really used it for privacy. No one bothered to climb up here to talk to him unless it was supremely important, taking the cue that he wanted to be alone when he was up in that roost.

His attention was divided. He kept an eye out for signs of intruders in the Stenchwater Swamp. He was also thumbing through the cell phone that he'd lifted off Wyatt the night before. Lyle had intended to study the picture and figure out how Wyatt had faked it, to find other evidence of his lie by reading through the saved text messages and scanning the rest of the phone's photo gallery.

His plan was backfiring rapidly. The more Lyle saw, the more he figured out that this was either the wildly elaborate scheme of someone truly off the deep end…or that Wyatt was telling the truth. What he found were text messages, the majority of which were to and from Lyle and Dante and some girl named Angie. Most were generic messages—meet me here, pick up Lyle there, project with Angie due then, where are you inquiries, dares offered and accepted, suggested for getting moss out of one's belly button, and so on. Dante had sent at least ten cell phone pictures for a collection labeled 'corn chips that look like reality t.v. show hosts' (which they did).

A few were calls for help handling Five-Arm Marauders, teachers who were cobras (whatever that meant), sunburns, computer dates, and other messages that were even more bizarre, probably written in moments of extreme panic, therefore only making sense if you had been there at the time.

Which Lyle supposed he had been, in a way.

What did not escape Lyle's notice was that every message was dated at least three months in the future and some as far off as a year in the future.

The rest of Lyle's attention was on the Genesis Orb, which was broadcasting the usual morning message from Maldark…as read by his favorite ambassador.

"…_if you a human resisting the authority of our glorious lord, Maldark, I urge you to-" _Lyle's father recited with the glazed eyes of one in a Mesmer's trance.

Lyle set the orb back in its hiding place among the piles of burned out and rusted car. The only comfort he got from the daily broadcasts was seeing that his dad was still alive.

_ For hours after the invasion, they hid in the sewers. The groundskeeper's cart had held less than a dozen, and they'd lost two more in their escape from the stadium. A Skelehawk had lifted Philbert right out of the vehicle before anyone could stop it, and Maggie had been caught by a Scurr slug. The creature had dug its teeth in the base of her skull, taking control of her brain and forcing her to attack. In self-defense, Kowalski had knocked her from the car and that was the last they'd seen of her._

_ Nine of them were left by the time the vehicle crashed into a demolished section of pavement. They'd run for the river and the drain pipes that led into the sewer system._

_They shut their ears to the cries echoing on the streets above, too terrified to stick their heads out of their hiding place and not knowing what to do if they did venture out. Many of them sat in glassy-eyed shock, arms wrapped around their knees, nervously rocking back and forth. Some out and out cried and nobody blamed them. _

_Lyle had lost his crutches when Reggie and Mike had pulled him into the jeep. They'd half-carried him in the run to the sewers. His knee ached like a bitch now. Lyle barely noticed or cared. He'd probably be dead before the day was over anyway. _

_He had tried to remove the bizarre clothing, but quickly discovered it had originated from one of Maldark's spells. Any different article of clothing he put on changed into the same overcoat and sunglasses of his game avatar. Lyle supposed Maldark had planned this little trick to make sure he could spot anyone who had experience with the game-'game warriors' he had called them. Super._

_They'd run, left their families and their friends behind to save their own necks. Lyle squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut out the image of the Mesmer brainwashing his father and Maldark's blades pressed to his father's throat. _

_McCobb voiced Lyle's thoughts: "We left them." _

_He paced, desperate to do something, to find out what happened to his mom and brother, but not having a clue where to start. He wondered what became of the police. They had heard noises like explosions in the distance and airplanes buzzing overhead. The sounds of explosions always followed the noise of the aircraft engines. If the Army was attacking that force field, they weren't making any headway breaking through. And, if the Army couldn't break though, what the hell were a bunch of football players and Natalie supposed to do?_

"_What were we supposed to do?" Kowalski grunted back. "Fight back? We aren't the damned Wolverines and this isn't freaking 'Red Dawn'."_

"_Aren't you worried about your family?" McCobb snapped._

_Kowalski jumped to his feet, angry. "What the hell kind of question is that?!"_

_McCobb backed off, not in the mood to fight Kowalski when there were actual monsters out there to tangle with. He turned to the only person the rest of the group would listen to. "What do we do now? You got a plan?" he asked Lyle. _

_Lyle glared, "Why the hell are you asking me?"_

_McCobb waved his hands at the frightened knot of teenager.: "You got us out of the stadium. You're their QB."_

"_Not anymore."_

"_They trust you. They're going to follow you." _

"_Right off a cliff. Mike, I don't have the answers! I don't know any more about what's going on than the rest of you." Lyle nervously rubbed at his aching leg._

_Mike disagreed. "You've played the game. You can at least guess better than we can."_

_Lyle yelled, "This isn't a game!"_

_Reggie asked quietly: "If it was, what would be our next play?"_

_When approached from that angle, Lyle automatically started thinking about the situation in football terms. They were the defense. The orb Lyle still guarded-it was the key to his father's life, after all, and maybe all their lives-was the ball. If the warlock's reaction last night was any indication, Maldark's offensive line (and the ugly, smelly, hairy mutants redefined "offensive") was going to come after it with everything he had. _

_Leave it to Maldark to rub salt in the wounds. As the teenagers bickered, the Genesis Orb flickered to life. The last thing Lyle expected was the image of his father at the center of the sphere._

_Mayor Maynard Hugginson spoke with calm authority, but Lyle knew his father. He could see the hint of defiance and disgust in his father's eyes, in the lines at the corners of his mouth as he frowned, and he could sense the coercion behind the words he spoke: "Citizens of Maldark: As the Human Ambassador, I have officially surrendered the city to Lord Maldark. In exchange for our unconditional pledge of servitude to Maldark, he has agreed to spare our lives, with the following exceptions: Game warriors, dissidents, and any human or avatar who harbors them, is subject to execution on sight. To the human dissident who has stolen the Genesis Orb, you have until the end of the day to restore what belongs to Maldark, or the human slaves will be executed one at a time in your place…beginning with me." There was the slightest hesitation, humiliation even, before Hugginson forced out the final words: "All praise to Lord Maldark."_

_Something deep within Lyle snapped, a piece finally clicking into place. All eyes turned to him, waiting to see what he would do. _

_His hands balled into fists, so tight that his nails left red indents on his skin. His insight had been right-Maldark would never give up the Genesis Orb. _

_And Lyle would never give up his father._

_Dad was right…he'd just needed the right motivation._

_Lyle pushed himself painfully to feet, waving Reggie off when he tried to offer a hand. Reggie and Mike weren't going to be able to carry him all around this city, not if they hoped to keep ahead of Maldark's minions. Leaning against the wall, remembering how the therapist had shown him to walk, he took a step, then another and another. The others followed as he slowly made his way along the tunnel. He walked until he finally found a long piece of broken fencing lying in the mud. It would give him splinters, but it would do until he could find a better crutch or walking stick. _

"_You're right, Mike. It's a game and Maldark's going to force us to play," Lyle said. "And I know our first move."_

_ The human world was vile, Saast had decided after one night. Even his pet Frill-Necked Slimer slugs that perched on his shoulders, made small hissing noises of uneasiness. He stroked them with a gloved paw, soothing the agitated creatures._

_ He curled up his trunk-like nose, trying to block the smell of the place-the odor of human sweat, of smoke, of burned wood and burned flesh was all repulsive to one unaccustomed to having a real sense of smell. He shuddered at the feel of mud and broken concrete beneath his unshod feet. Even the foliage had a sickeningly sweet smell. Small wonder Lord Maldark had secluded himself within his palace and left the task of rounding up the humans and retrieving his Genesis Orb to his foot soldiers._

_ As for the creatures that inhabited this world, they would be easy enough to conquer. Those within the city were quickly being gathered like sheep, with only pockets of humans in hiding to be ferreted out. Within two weeks, Saast would have the last one in chains and Maldark's new labor force efficiently distributed at his farms, factories, and mines. _

_Perhaps the delay caused by the bothersome children who had taken the Genesis Orb had been a favor; the conquest of the small clutch of humans within this city was gifting Saast with insight into their nature and methods of combat that would serve him well when the invasion expanded to the rest of the planet._

_In the smaller tracking orb that Saast carried, he could see the small group of human teeangers hiding in the tunnels beneath the city. They were unaware of the multiple purposes of every orb, in particular that the orbs were means of communication. In combination with the map of the newly transformed city that Maldark had conjured, Saast would have the young dissidents in hand within the hour. _

"_The humans will be disoriented. They will act on instinct and fear. They'll try to hide as far from us as possible," Saast instructed his small company of Tenrecs and his Mesmer as they searched the city._

_Saast's orb had led him to a section of the city that the humans had called Sculpture Park. Obviously, they had named it in honor of the garish, blue, sixty foot tall sculpture at the center of the park. Saast sniffed at the object, another oddity of the inhabitants of this world. It smelled of paint, which repelled him. Neither was it pleasing to his overlarge eyes-it was a hodgepodge of geometric shapes atop what resembled a campfire. He could not fathom what purpose such a concoction served._

_A half-dozen avatars, all of them wearing long robes and wielding Thunder Poles, were gathered around the towering sculpture, bowing and reciting incantations. _

_Such idiocy incensed Saast. He chased them away by breaking off a fang and spitting it at them. Another fang quickly grew in its place. The ivory projectile embedded itself in the statue. "Disperse! It's a statue, you idiots!"_

_They scattered, hiding in the nearby forest. As soon as Saast and his guards passed by, the warlocks ran back to the statue and resumed their ceremonies. One of them climbed up to fetch the Timiga's tusk from the statue and happily fashioned a tip for his Thunder Pole from it._

_Saast growled in his throat, but had no time to waste on their foolishness. The orb showed him that the human fugitives had left the tunnels and were in a wooded area. He ordered his soldiers: "Tenrec-search the forest, the parks, and watch the Barbarian and Newport encampments. Warn them that their sympathies for the human slaves will not be tolerated, nor will they be spared if they hide the fugitives."_

_The Tenrecs hastened to obey. Saast and the Mesmer waited on the dirt road for the Tenrecs to flush the human children out of hiding. Maldark had already prepared a particularly slow and very public execution to repay the humans for the humiliation he'd suffered over the theft of the Genesis Orb…_

"_So-Barbarians and Newport folks have soft spots for humans. Good to know."_

_He did not know the voice-Saast had not been present at the "football stadium" during the theft of the orb-but the impudent tone told him all he needed to know: the defiant words had come from one of the thieves. He whirled around to find a human boy standing behind him on the trail. The teenager was unsteady, obviously having one injured leg. Still, he stared down the 'First One of Maldark' without so much as a blink to betray fear._

_In that millisecond, Saast decided Maldark wouldn't mind if just one of the humans didn't survive long enough to be executed._

_Before he could break off a fang to spit at the human, Lyle swung his heavy walking stick and cracked the monster across its skull._

_The Frill-Necked Slimers hissed and snaked, quick as the play of lightning, at the teenagers. "Ew, nasty!" Lyle jumped back, swinging the stick at the slug avatars. He batted them away, though they spewed slime into his face as they were knocked aside. For the first time, Lyle appreciated the sunglasses he was forced to wear._

_The Mesmer let out a shrill keen of alarm that brought the Tenrecs running back to Saast._

_Reggie, Mike, Kowalski, and the others rushed from their hiding places in the park, using what weapons they had scavenged to fight the Tenrecs. They had learned their lesson about the mutants' quills and had found battered garbage can lids to deflect most of the needles. A black quill glanced Natalie's arm. With a shout, Reggie charged at her Tenrec assailant, pushing it back with the lid until it lost its footing and tumbled down a slope._

"_Nat!" Lyle stumbled over, feeling at her throat for a pulse, thankful to find it was strong and steady. _

_The Mesmer stepped into the center of the fray, turning its powers against the humans. Kowalski took up a broken length of pipe and aimed it squarely at the robotic avatar's chest. It captured Kowalski's eye with its hypnotic light show, setting its will into the boy's mind. _

_Kowalski took the pipe and turned to stalk up behind the distracted Lyle._

_Mike tore off his jacket and used it to cover the Mesmer's face. He grabbed hold of the mutant, shouting a cry of warning to Lyle. _

_Lyle caught the pipe before it impaled him, but Kowalski put his weight behind the thrust. The force made Lyle stumble, which nearly caused his bad knee to give out beneath him. Kowalski lunged again, and this time, the leg gave out and Lyle fell. A fresh spray of pain made him see stars._

_Reggie stepped between Kowalski and Lyle. He gave Kowalski a slap across the face._

"_Ow!" Kowalski blinked, his dazed expression giving way to an confused glare. "What happened?" Automatically, he turned back towards the Mesmer._

_Reggie grabbed his shoulder and spun him away from the monster. "Don't look directly at it!"_

"_You okay?" Mike asked Lyle. _

_As he pushed himself to his feet, Lyle spotted something that had fallen from Saast's hand. It was a smaller orb. It alternated between showing a map of Daventry Hills as it was now that the invasion had begun-including the Babarian and Newport camps, the Acid Lakes, the Stenchwater Swamps, and the Lava Moats and Scurr Hollows-and showing the teenagers standing in the park. _So, this is how the freaks found our hiding place. _Lyle would have to find a box or container for the Genesis Orb, something to keep Maldark from using it to spy on them._

"_What have we here? This could be useful, too. Mike, look at this." _

_Kowalski took Mike's place in restraining the Mesmer. McCobb stared at the map that displayed on the smaller orb, instantly knowing what Lyle needed: He needed Mike's photographic memory so that they could reproduce the map of the new city later. He studied every detail before nodding to Lyle, who dashed the smaller orb into shards on the pavement._

_His walking stick had broken on impact with Saast's thick skull. Lyle used the pipe that Kowalski had found instead. He limped over to the Mesmer. "I'm going to take off this hood because I need you to send a message to Maldark for me. If you try to hypnotize me with your little light show, I'm going to drop you in the lava moats now that I know where to find them. Understand me?"_

_ The Mesmer made not a sound._

_ Maldark's palace had formerly been the extravagant home of the game's creator, Max Ross, the egomaniacal human who erroneously believed himself to be Maldark's creator as well. As if any mere mortal could claim to have a hand in breathing life into an entity as powerful as he. The notion made Maldark scoff. He had made a point of destroying that fool fist. The only worthwhile thing Ross had done was create a castle within the city that Maldark could claim for himself when the conquest of Earth began. It would suit him until the human race was at last under his reign, after which his slaves would build him a palace of gold and the finest jewels to be mined on this minor planet._

_ None of those plans would progress if that incompetent Saast did not retrieve the Genesis Orb. To be delayed by children was an affront to Maldark. With each passing hour, Maldark's impatience grew. As half the day slipped by without word from his First One or the surrender of the disrespectful human teenagers, Maldark paced. Perhaps he should send Saast and the Tenrecs to labor and send humans to chase down the teenagers. Maybe they'd have better luck fetching back the orb._

_The Tenrecs, Mesmers, and other minions who attended him kept a discreet distance from their fuming master…quite involuntarily…the Mesmers emitted the warning tone of an incoming transmission and their faceplates began to glow._

"_What-?" Maldark frowned. This could not be a message from Saast. He would have used the communication orb, not the Mesmers, to speak to his master. The Mesmers were placed throughout the city, there to monitor for any escaped humans and to broadcast Maldark's messages to his people as they took possession of the town. Maldark would feed Saast to his pet slugs if he dared make a broadcast without Maldark's permission…_

_The Mesmers projected the image of a human Maldark recognized at once._

_ The face of the warlock, reflected in the smaller orb, showed his shock. Lyle grinned at that. "I have a message for you, 'Lord' Maldark. You want your Genesis Orb? Guess what? I'm not giving it back. You can come and try to take it from me. You'll fail."_

_ Lyle pointed the orb towards the Acid Moats that surrounded the city. Kowalski dangled the Genesis Orb above the simmering goo. When he was sure that Maldark had time to see this, Lyle pointed the orb back at himself. "Here are my terms: If you execute one human hostage, especially my father, or if one of your goons or flunkies comes within one hundred feet of me or my friends…well, I'm betting acid can destroy this orb."_

_The human leaned in close to the orb, then made a hand gesture into the sphere that Maldark did not understand, but intuitively knew was rude and defiant._

_Lyle ended with: "'All glory to Maldark'." Then, the Mesmers face-screen went dark once more._

_ They could hear Maldark's cry all the way at the Acid Moats. _

_Lyle walked back to where the others were gathered. They'd found a discarded sack to carry the Genesis Orb, not at all certain that it would hide them if Maldark tried to use the sphere to track them again. They'd left Saast and his Mesmer chained to a tree, but the Tenrecs would have returned and freed them by now, Lyle figured. They had to get someplace where the monsters wouldn't follow, if such a place existed._

_McCobb was ashen-faced. "Okay, so that was terrifying. Now that you've pissed off the warlock, do you have a plan?"_

"_First, we find a place to hide where the hunters and Maldark won't want to search. In the game, there were safe zones: The Chameleomole tunnels, the Razor Rocks…did you see any of those places on the map?" Lyle asked Mike. _

_Mike picked up a stick and concentrated on drawing the map in the dirt. Lyle focused on the map while the others watched for signs of pursuers._

_After a few minutes, Lyle saw something he recalled from the game. "The Stenchwater Swamps! Right there. It's a Safe Zone. That's what we need. Let's move."_

_Reggie nodded. "I like the plan so far. Safe zones are good."_

"_What? Tenrecs don't like getting their feet wet?" McCobb sniped._

_Lyle used his foot to erase the lines in the dirt. "The swamp is full of Fog Faeries and Shrieking Delilahs-it's a flower. Faeries can generate a fog that will knock out anyone who breathes it. Shrieking Delilahs can disorient an avatar with the screaming noises they make."_

"_What stops the Faeries from knocking us out?" Kowalski wanted to know._

"_Fog Faeries are gamer allies, that's what." _

"_Allies are also good," Reggie said. "When we get to the swamps, then what?"_

"_We find more allies. Start gathering weapons. Prepare."_

_Natalie wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. "Prepare for what?"_

_Lyle squared his shoulders. "To prevail…we find a way to kill Maldark. We get our families back."_

Wyatt had tried in vain to sleep in a hammock slung between a tree and the remains of a crane. The material smelled like rot and feet and was made of a scratchy material he hoped was canvas. Dawn came before he knew it (differentiated only because the sky turned a marginally lighter shade of purple). In trying to climb out of the hammock, he ended up face-down in a pool of slime. This was bad, but it was worse when an involuntary squeak of pain caused him to inhale some of the foul sludge.

Wyatt had spent most of the night trying to get the Doubleback's broken chronometer to work, a task complicated because he'd lost his backpack in the swamp and had mostly just Bob's stone age tools to work with. He'd given up before he smashed the thing beyond hope of restoration.

Bob the Barbarian was happily cooking again, roasting another unidentifiable beast over a small campfire. The rest of the camp didn't seem to mind, too hungry to care what they were eating as long as it stayed down. Wyatt wasn't quite that desperate yet. When Bob offered a stick with a chunk of meat, he held up a hand. "No, thanks, I'm still good."

Lyle sensed someone standing at the bottom of the metal pile where he'd perched. He didn't need to ask who it was…no one in his camp was polite enough to wait to be acknowledged. They usually plopped right down or greeted each other with a punch to the shoulder and a rude name.

Wyatt took the slight turn of Lyle's head as an invitation to climb up. He overhead the last bit of Maynard's morning broadcast.

"We had a fight the night of the invasion." Lyle was not sure why he was telling that to a stranger. But then, after leafing through the pilfered cell phone for the last hour, Lyle wondered if the kid really was a 'stranger' after all.

"At least you know he's still alive," Wyatt tried to be comforting.

Lyle wasn't having that. "Alive and a mouthpiece for that jackmunch, Maldark. I'm bursting with pride. Maldark's just keeping him alive because I have the Genesis Orb. You know, the first time I saw my dad after he was taken, it was a live broadcast of what was supposed to be his execution if I didn't give up the orb."

"How'd you save him?"

"Did my own live broadcast of me holding the Genesis Orb over the Acid Swamps. Maldark and I have an understanding now-if my dad dies, the orb goes with him. Doesn't stop him from sending every bounty hunter and Grinder in the city after me, but it keeps my dad alive for now."

Lyle sighed. It hadn't stopped Maldark from finding loopholes in their bargain. Maldark did not execute humans, but he'd found humans like the Grinders to do his dirty work for him. There wasn't much Lyle could do about it without coming out of the swamp, out into the open where he would be ambushed by every mutant in the city. All he'd achieved with his deal with the warlock was a stalemate. Sooner or later, Maldark's patience would run out…and he'd find a way to get to his Genesis Orb.

Wyatt was wide-eyed. "Whoah. Don't suppose you know what happened to everyone else?"

Lyle made it his business to know what happened in the city. It was the only way to survive…plus, he was still clinging to the fading hope of rescuing their families and friends. Hope was about the only thing keeping him sane. "The ones who gave up right away became slaves. He uses his Mesmers to make sure they behave. The ones who fight back end up on his Wanted board."

Wyatt held out his hand, silently asking for his phone. He would have been upset at Lyle's invasion of his privacy, but if snooping through it convinced him that Wyatt was telling the truth, he'd forgive it. He keyed up another picture of Never Fail, this one has Angie. It was a shot of the four of them at the dance. He pointed to Angie.

"Her name is Angie. She is-she was-one of our friends, one of our clan. Her picture was on the 'Wanted' board. It said 'executed by the Grinders'."

Lyle gave him a look of pity. "Your buddy, Dante, strikes again…excuse me, _our_ buddy." For some reason, the picture of the teenagers-including his alternate timeline self-smiling at the dance made him bitter and jealous. _What the hell made _that_ Lyle more deserving of the good times and the normal life and the friends_?

Wyatt repeated: "I still don't believe that. I just wondered if you know why Maldark went after her? Was she one of the dissidents?" He didn't really need to ask. He knew her, and as long as Angie was drawing breath, she would have fought Maldark, just like Lyle. Out on her own, she wouldn't have had a chance.

"She's dead. Does it matter what she did to piss off baldy?" Lyle snapped.

_No, I guess it doesn't_, Wyatt thought. "I don't suppose you know Max Ross either, or what happened to him?"

"The guy we have to thank for the conquest of our world? Yeah, I may have heard of him. They've been finding pieces of him all over the city." Wyatt's stomach turned and his face went green at the mental picture. Lyle suggested: "Save us some time, Wyatt. Anyone you don't see in this camp is either a slave or dead by the Tenrecs, Mesmers, Skelehawks, Scurr, bounty hunters, or the Grinders."

Wyatt assumed that included his family in this universe. He hoped they were just slaves and not dead. He supposed everyone in the camp had been living with that uncertainty, not quite knowing what became of their families.

"Max could have helped us find the Doubleback and get this chronometer working."

Lyle rubbed his eyes. He'd kind of hoped the guy would have given up the hunting down the Doubleback suicide notion. "That's still your plan?"

Wyatt stared at him blankly. "How else am I going to restore the timeline?"

He tried to explain the biggest flaw in Wyatt's plan. "An avatar as high level as the Doubleback—not that I'm saying I believe it exists-would be tucked away in Maldark's castle. Humans don't get inside the castle unless it's for their executions."

The nerd was undaunted. "Could a Grinder get inside?"

"Why? You planning on joining up? They almost killed you in case you've forgotten."

"It's better than doing nothing," Wyatt answered.

Lyle jumped to his feet because the urge to give the geek a smack in the head to knock sense into him was too tempting. This guy was _not_ getting what Lyle was trying to tell him. They were probably all going to die anyway, but that was no reason to chase after death by running to Maldark's goons.

"I'm not asking you to do anything except point me in the direction of wherever the Grinders hang out. If I can talk to Dante—"

Lyle cut him off: "He. Will. Kill. You. I'm telling you for the last time, Wyatt-that guy cannot be trusted."


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Stop me if you've heard it already, but I don't own "Level Up"._

**5**

Mahtava had studied Maldark's habits over the past few months. There were only three places to find human slaves in the city. They slaved picking fruit in the orchards and on the farms of the Scare Crows. They labored in the mines that had manifested when Maldark transformed the city. They created monuments to the sorcerer in the factories and stone quarries (which were also new additions to Daventry Hills courtesy f Maldark).

It was difficult to fight the Scare Crows. Mahtava had tangled with them before and received a bad concussion for the mistake. Hitting the mines was somewhat easier. The quarries were too perilous; there were too many ways to become boxed in by the Tenrec guards or the Grinders if they were summoned.

Factories were the easiest targets. Though Mahtava regretted having to abandon the humans enslaved in the more dangerous areas, it was necessary for the hunter to choose targets that yielded the maximum reward for the least peril.

Mahtava studied the foundry all morning, memorizing the patterns of the Tenrec patrols. There were no signs of Mesmers, thank God. The downside was that the lack of Mesmers meant that the humans enslaved inside were so cowed or broken that they were easily controlled. Mahtava did not want humans who were already defeated. Once all hell broke loose, the humans would need to fight, not cower.

While formulating a plan, Mahtava silently loaded moldy gym socks into an air cannon. The mask covering the hunter's face offered protection from the powerful stench of the garments. The hypersensitive noses of the Tenrecs, on the other hand, would be extremely vulnerable to the stink about to be unleashed upon them. Beneath the mask, Mahtava smiled in vengeful satisfaction at the thought.

Still smiling in anticipation of the their misery, Mahtava fired the stink bomb into the center of the knot of monster sentries. The Tenrecs reacted on instinct, forgetting their guard duties in their haste to escape the overwhelming stench. Eyes watering, blurring their vision, the Tenrecs fired their quills randomly at the buildings that surrounded the foundry in hopes of hitting their unseen attacker.

The projectiles bounced harmlessly off Mahtava's armor, but the hunter still cringed at the close call, all too familiar with their poison. One throw of the Atomic Wedge took out two of the Tenrecs. That leveled the playing field.

The Tenrecs scattered, fanning out to search the nearby alleys for their attacker, leaving only a few of their comrades to guard the humans, who were milling around the doorways and windows, trying to see for themselves the source of the commotion outside the factory.

Mahtava shouted to the humans: "Run! That way!" The hunter pointed in the direction of the city park and its woodlands.

Some stood still, frozen in fear. Others retreated into the factory, bereft of hope of escaping their captors. Mahtava could not help them. It was the humans who suddenly realized that freedom was within reach who reacted. They grabbed pipes and wrenches and rose up against the mutant guards. Mahtava emerged from the cover of the alley, letting the Atomic Wedge fly at any Tenrecs who came too near to harming the escaping slaves. The humans were merciless, beating down their captors with the fury born of months of captivity and grief and terror.

A dark-haired human boy let out a whoop of pure joy after knocking one Tenrec cold with a pipe. He beamed at his masked rescuer, even more thrilled with Mahtava's mysterious disguise. He beamed at the hunter. "That was awesome!"

A short, red-haired boy grabbed him by the arm. "Philbert! Come on, man, let's go before they wake up!"

Philbert resisted, swinging at another Tenrec who emerged from the foundry. He and Mahtava took out the guard before the monster could fire into the crowd of fleeing slaves.

A human couple, protectively shielding their young daughter, dared to approach their rescuer. The mother asked, "Have you seen our son?! We were separated during the invasion. His name's Mike McCobb-"

Mahtava waved them towards the relative safety of the forest. "I don't know! You've got to get out of here. Now!"

Then the hunter heard the familiar whine of the Grinders' hoverboards. Mahtava had expected the human scourge, but was still not glad to be caught between them and the remaining Tenrecs. Things were getting complicated quickly. Mahtava grasped the boomerang weapon and turned to face the approaching minions of Maldark.

Henry McCobb tugged, resisting his mother as she pulled the ten-year-old boy towards the woods. "I want to fight!" he pleaded, awkwardly lifting a heavy hammer.

"Not here! Not now! Trust me, kid, get out of here!" Mahtava yelled. Henry's mother concurred, physically picking him up and carrying him when the tiny boy still refused to move. He kneecapped one Tenrec before his mother wrangled him.

The McCobbs were the first ones the Grinders spotted-the first to vanish into the beams of their Hail Razors. Mahtava screamed, "NO!"

The hunter pitched the wedge and knocked the Grinders' leader off his board with one shot. A Tenrec quill struck the hunter's arm-guard during that lapse of attention. Luckily, it was a black quill, not a poisonous purple one.

The shaggy-haired Grinder who had fallen off his board pointed a finger at the Tenrec and growled, "Let me handle this, quill boy!"

The mutant humored the human, since Maldark had given instructions not to kill the Grinders until the Genesis Orb was recovered. The Grinders had disposed of other dissidents like the hunter, Mahtava, without difficulty. Besides, the Grinders were already doing an adequate job of vaporizing the human slaves and the Tenrecs were still repulsed by the odor of the socks lying on the pavement. None had to fortitude to brave the stench in order to dispose of the garments, and smell of the Grinders' leader was nearly as offensive. They were only too happy to retreat.

"Rotten traitors-!" Mahtava lunged at the downed Grinder, landing a flurry of kicks of punches that mostly hit the thick black padding he wore instead of his flesh.

The Grinder's brown eyes crinkled, betraying the smile underneath his mask. "Pretty sweet moves, Red."

Mahtava kept the Grinder on the defensive. He scrambled to dodge the hunter's strikes until he could finally get back on his feet. Mahtava lunged; The boy feinted left, then right, then hooked an arm around Mahtava' neck and jumped onto the hunter's back. His weight on Mahtava's back was enough to pull the hunter to the ground. They wrestled; each drew their weapon and the other flailed to push the weapon away. The human knocked the wedge out of the hunter's hand. In response, Mahtava reached backwards and ripped the cloth mask off the Grinder's face…then elbowed his nose. He yelped, letting go of the hunter.

Mahtava rolled away and whirled to see the boy's face. "Onterro."

Dante grinned at the hunter. "Mahtava." The hunter tried to retrieve the wedge, but the Grinder raised his Hail Razor in warning.

Mahtava glanced around. The humans were all but gone, falling quickly to the Grinders. "How do you live with yourself? Selling out your own people?"

Dante shrugged. "Maldark gave me a palace. _My people_ gave me two years in juvy with twenty guys and one toilet. It wasn't a real hard choice. You've got skills. You can join us."

The hunter was offended. "Was that a joke? I'd rather you shoot me now, moron."

_Well, since the hunter asked…_

"You're really going through with this?"

"Someone's got to come up with a plan."

"Someone's got to come up with a better plan than Dante Onterro."

Wyatt and Lyle had to wait for night to make their way through the city, mostly by using bottles of the Fog Sprite's vapors to shroud their presence and tranquilize any monsters who wandered too near them. Lyle had learned many tricks for sneaking around the conquered city unnoticed. Getting to their destination wasn't the problem; it was the sanity of Wyatt's plan that Lyle questioned.

"He's not going to disintegrate me, Lyle. You'll see," Wyatt insisted.

The kid was either very naïve or he really did know something about the leader of the Grinders that Lyle didn't. "Glad you think so. There it is."

Lyle and Wyatt crouched in the rubble across the street from the Grinders' HQ, which turned out to be the remains of Daventry Hills High School. The high school looked to Wyatt like it could win first prize on _Extreme Makeover Freak Edition_. There were all kinds of game leaks mingling among the Grinders: Tenrecs patrolled the perimeter. Mesmers stood silent watch. Skulks dozed, dangling from the trees and bike racks. Some of the Grinders were skateboarding on the stairs and the handrails. Others were using their hoverboards to fly from the roof down to the grass, usually falling off when they tried to land, after which they'd jump to their feet and high five each other. Trash cans, small piles of rubble, and a few overturned cars were on fire. The walls were covered with graffiti tags and surreal art that Wyatt would have recognized as Dante's handiwork any time.

"Didn't I say this was a bad idea?" Now that they were there, at the lair of the traitors, Lyle was having second, third, and fourth thoughts. It didn't matter if the Mesmers caught Wyatt and used their powers on him. Maldark and the Grinders already knew where the fugitives were camped and had failed to break past their defenses time and again. Lyle had nothing to lose whatever happened to the other teenager. If Wyatt insisted on getting hit by a train, Lyle had no wish to be the one who led him to the railroad tracks.

Wyatt sighed. "About twenty times. Supposing by some miracle Dante doesn't vaporize me-if I get him to agree to help, will you be there when we hit Maldark's castle? We'll need all the help we can get."

Lyle snorted. "Yeah, nothing draws volunteers like a suicide mission with no chance of success. Good luck with that." He turned to go before one of Maldark's goons spotted him.

Wyatt caught his arm. "What about saving your dad?"

He pulled free. "What's saving my dad is me _not_ showing up on Maldark's doorstep." With that, Lyle disappeared into the night under another shroud of sprite fog.

"Right." Wyatt let him go. He watched the Grinders for a few minutes, debating how to approach them without getting a butt full of Tenrec quills or shot by those nasty Hail Razors. He didn't recognize a single one of the teenagers milling around the entrance to the old school, which meant they probably weren't from the high school. They definitely weren't part of the group that Dante hung out with at the skate park. Wyatt had been there once or twice, and they definitely were a…memorable…bunch.

He decided on the direct route. Taking a deep breath, hoping not to die, Wyatt stepped out of hiding and walked right up to the dumbfounded Grinders.

The Tenrecs aimed their quills at him, but held back, apparently waiting for a cue from the humans or the Mesmers. The Mesmers crystal face plates glowed red, obviously reporting Wyatt's presence to Maldark himself.

Wyatt waved nervously as the boys drew their Hail Razors and surrounded him. "Hi, guys. Love what you've done here. The place looks very-Resident Evil I guess would describe it. No hard feelings about yesterday, right? I'm not here to fight, don't even have a weapon."

He held up his hands and did a quick spin, just so they could see for themselves that he was unarmed. Up close, they were a scary-looking bunch. Most of them looked like they could bench press a Hyundai, and their eyes were stone cold. Wyatt stammered on: "I just want to talk to…well, I guess he's your boss. Dante Onterro? Might be calling himself 'Sir Bickle'? You know him?"

"And who are _you_?" a familiar voice asked.

The Grinders parted like water to clear a path for a grungy figure whom Wyatt recognized at once: Dante. He was sporting a recently-bruised nose, was dressed a lot like his game avatar underneath his overcoat, had some strange piece of metal stuck in the left side of his neck, and there was none of his usual humor in his expression or his eyes, but he was still unmistakably Dante.

Now that Wyatt looked, he noticed all the boys had those odd metal shards in their necks. _What the heck were those things_?

He was staring at Wyatt like he couldn't believe the teenager's nerve in striding right up to them.

Lyle watched from a hiding spot behind a smashed and overturned dumpster. He'd started to walk away, but something made him turn around. Morbid interest in seeing how far Wyatt would get before the Grinders wasted him, Lyle supposed. Besides, Wyatt was a decent kid—insanity notwithstanding. He shouldn't die alone; someone should be there with him, a witness if nothing else. It wasn't that Lyle believed any of the crap the computer geek had said. It wasn't that any small part of Lyle hoped that Wyatt was telling the truth.

That wasn't it at all.

Wyatt forced a grin despite his nervousness. "Hey, buddy! I can see you don't remember me. I'm Wyatt. School A/V club? Academic Olympics champ? No?"

Dante blinked at him.

The other Grinders fingered their weapons.

"Seriously, guys, not here to fight," Wyatt said to them. "You're probably not going to believe this, but I'm here because I need your help. I can explain if you give me a chance."

Dante frowned.

Wyatt added: "I know a way to stop Maldark…"

Still not saying a word, Dante drew his own Hail Razor. Wyatt vanished into the energy stream as the Grinders laughed and made comments like 'freak', 'geek', and 'loser'.

The Mesmer returned to its silent watch. The Tenrecs resumed their patrols, satisfied that the Grinder had contained the problem.

Dante ignored them all. Still frowning, he turned and ducked back into the building while the others resumed their games. He paused only to check that Tenrecs and Mesmers were taking no further interest and were reporting to Maldark that a human dissident has been neutralized.

Only Rat, Deke, and Jonas followed Dante inside.

Still watching from the alley, Lyle slammed his fist angrily against the dumpster. _He knew that little weasel couldn't be trusted! Why did he listen to Wyatt? _

Anger abated, leaving only quiet resolve. Enough was enough…no more hiding. Lyle was ready to start taking the fight to the invaders and their goons…and Dante Onterro and his Lost Boys were the first ones Lyle would take down.

Wyatt was rather surprised-pleasantly so-to wake up not vaporized.

It was, however, unsettling to wake up with three of the punked out Grinders standing over him. He discovered that he was laying on a 'mattress' comprised of smashed boxes, newspapers, and bags of trash.

Among the faces, Dante was smirking down at Wyatt. "Bang bang, you're dead, champ."

Another boy with long curly hair and scary blue eyes added: "Welcome to hell."

Rat offered Wyatt a hand standing up. The burly teenager tugged hard enough that Wyatt was actually lifted a couple inches off the ground as he regained his feet. He smiled thanks at the behemoth, making a quick resolution to stay on this kid's good side.

They were gathered in the high school's main hallway. Like the exterior, the place was trashed, half-collapsed, and things were burning. Dante had redecorated the place with his own 'artwork' and the other boys had contributed their own graffiti.

Wyatt patted himself on the arms and legs and face just to check that he was really alive, since the last thing he remembered was Dante shooting him. "What…how…when? How did you-?"

Dante moved to sit on the stairs. He waved to a short boy with spiky hair and thick glasses. "Jonas?"

Jonas grinned and moved to stand between Dante and Wyatt. Dante drew his weapon again and shot Jonas with the Hail Razor. The boy vanished. Wyatt would have shouted or screamed, but he was frozen in surprise.

Dante pressed a second button on the stick. Jonas reappeared, standing on the steps behind Dante, completely unharmed and grinning like a madman.

Wyatt let out the breath he'd been holding. "It's a teleporter, not a gun."

"Gold star for the nerd," Dante said.

"It's both…at least, now it is," Jonas boasted, obviously the one who'd modified the game weapon.

"Jonas is a genius with gadgets. He's the one who made the fire sprinklers rain turkey gravy on the homecoming pep rally," Rat explained.

A grin spread across Wyatt's face, and not just because he remembered the gravy incident. "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't vaporize me…anyone…wouldn't vaporize anyone." He almost hugged Dante, until the other boy raised an eyebrow to warn him he'd damned well better not.

"How do you know I just didn't keep you alive to interrogate you?" Dante rather enjoyed how fast the grin dropped off the curly-haired kid's face at that question. Wyatt hadn't thought of that.

Before Wyatt could answer, he was interrupted when the scary blue-eyed boy let out a yelp. The Grinders turned to see that he'd set his coat sleeve on fire. Without missing a beat, Dante pulled the towel from his pocket and tossed it at the kid, obviously having dealt with this situation before.

"Again? Really? Deke, what's the rule about fire?" he asked.

Deke was both sheepish and annoyed as he smothered the flames. "Only in the cans you marked."

Dante nodded. "Thank you."

Wyatt cringed. "How about 'no fires at all', Deke? That's also a good rule…"

"Baby steps, Wyatt. Deacon's special." Dante returned his full attention to their guest/prisoner. "Sir Bickle was my dog's name. How'd you know that?" It was also the Grinders' password, but Dante figured that curly top didn't need to know that.

"You named your avatar after your dog?" Wyatt asked.

"What?"

"Never mind." Wyatt had to approach this carefully if he didn't want Dante to Taser him with the other setting on the weapon. "I'm going to take a wild guess-we haven't met?"

Dante stared at him as if trying to place his face. "Were you in the school band?"

Wyatt shuddered. "No! Were you?"

Dante's ears turned red. "No."

Wyatt figured the fastest way was just to be direct and honest. "Okay, here it comes, right between the eyes-would you believe me if I said we're friends from an alternate timeline where we stopped Maldark from invading Daventry Hills?"

His friend's frown said that he wouldn't believe that at all.

Still, Wyatt pressed on: "We were a gamer clan called 'Never Fail'. We stopped Maldark. So, he sent his Doublebacks to screw up our past and keep us from ever forming our clan. Without us, he conquered Daventry Hills."

Dante and the Grinders exchanged looks. Some shrugged. Some snickered. Some shook their heads, thinking Wyatt was even crazier than they were. Dante also smirked a little bit, but humored Wyatt a bit longer.

"That how you landed on Maldark's most wanted list?" he asked.

It was then that someone Wyatt _did_ recognize strode into the hallway. Oblivious to the on-going Q&A session, Guy walked in, carrying the crates labeled 'Human Food'. He added this to a stack of similar crates in the janitor closet. Only then did he turn and spot Wyatt. Recognizing him from the tavern, Guy jumped. "It's you…"

Wyatt remembered seeing him at the tavern as well…not long before the Grinders arrived. Guy had been toying with the garish ring on his finger. On a hunch, Wyatt grabbed Guy's hand and pressed his thumb against the ring. The false stone began to flash a warning light and a warning alarm echoed through the high school. "I wondered how the Grinders found me so fast…you were the one who tipped them off that I was in the tavern," he accused.

Guy did not deny it. "I regret the ruse, Mr.-?"

"Wyatt. Wyatt Black."

The game leak gave a slight bow in greeting. "I'm what you might call a spotter. If I see a human, I-"

"Guy." Dante tried to silence the avatar. He still didn't know Wyatt, neither did he trust him with too much information.

Guy fumbled, changing his answer mid-sentence. "-report them to Sir Dante for termination."

"Oh yeah? Like he 'terminated' me?" Wyatt turned back to Dante. "I'll bet you didn't vaporize Angie, either."

Dante stared blankly. Wyatt knew that face. It was Dante's 'I'm going to pass off a lie to Barbra' face. "Sorry, 'computer buddy', I don't know any 'Angie'."

_Computer buddy! Dante had called him 'computer buddy'!_ Wyatt pounced on that. "So, you _do_ know me!"

"You wanted them to replace the candy in the vending machines with fruits and veggies. Everyone knows you. You had many enemies here…"

Wyatt blurted, "Man, how'd you get stuck henching for Maldark? What happened last September?"

The hints of humor Dante had shown instantly melted into a frown. He did not answer.

"You don't want to tell me. That's fine," Wyatt said. "It's kind of history-altering important, but that's fine. So answer this: Why would you _ever_ help Maldark?"

_The place stank like urine and body odor. The food was unidentifiable and inedible, even to Dante, who had been known to eat pineapple skins and car seat covers. Everybody in the place was just insane enough to make Dante the most normal person in the facility. It was a cesspool in the middle of a dump at the bottom of a sinkhole._

_ But, what the hell, it was still better than Phys. Ed., Dante mused._

_ After two months, he was starting to feel right at home in the county juvenile detention facility. The place was insane, but he could do crazy in his sleep._

_ The lady sitting on the other side of the table, however, stuck out like a flashing neon sign that read: "Lawyer". She was too clean, her clothes were too neat, and her eyes too sane for her to ever fit in with the guests of this state-operated palace, he thought. He was willing to bet the most awful thing that happened in her life was getting a zit on prom night. Still, Lumilla Ortiz had a way of tearing the prosecuting attorneys a new one with just a raised eyebrow or a sharp retort during Dante's court appearances that he'd come to admire over the past three months. He could see why she was BFF's with Barbra during their college years._

_ Lumilla was explaining the plea bargain agreement when a foul scent suddenly burned her eyes and made her cough. She looked up from the papers to see two lace-less tennis shoes propped on the table not far from her face. She raised an eyebrow at the dark-eyed boy sitting opposite her and shoved his feet off the table. "I'm trying to tell you, if you'd pay attention, that you'll be out of here in two days…if you don't do things like this." The lawyer lady frowned and reached across the table. The guards standing in the corner tensed, until they saw her tug at the name tag on Dante's prison uniform. It read: 'Fenway'. "What did you do with _your_ uniform, Dante?" she scolded._

_He shrugged and placed his feet right back on the table until the guard cleared his throat, warning him he'd damned well better behave for the nice attorney. Dante knew better than to make a face or a smart-ass remark to the guard unless he wanted to have his next three meals in solitary confinement. _

"_Do you want to be stuck here longer for playing games?" Lumilla asked him. The prosecution had not been able to prove the arson allegations against the teenager. Though Principal Storm's house had been deliberately set on fire, Dante had insisted he'd just been passing by and broke a window going in to see if the principal was trapped inside. _

_Of course, Dante had also claimed to have been lured to Storm's house when a man dressed like a giant robot had jumped out of the bushes, knocked him off his skateboard, and stolen his new cell phone._

_Given that the school official and the school delinquent despised each other utterly (and given that the only other suspect was a robot with kleptomania), Dante had a hard time convincing anyone. To his utter shock, his mother had believed him almost without question and asked Ortiz to defend her son. There had been no real evidence to convict the kid of setting the fire, but Dante had still been stuck with a trespassing and breaking and entering charge. Ortiz had bargained to get the teenager out of juvenile hall into the minimum security boys' ranch._

"_Not like I have anyplace else to go." _

_She frowned, this time in sympathy mixed with genuine concern. The kid she'd known pretty much since Barbra gave birth to him was a firecracker…ornery, stubborn, impulsive, reckless but generally good-humored. The boy staring at her now was broody, angry, barely spoke to anyone, and mistrustful. She understood the change-the last three months since the fire had been seven kinds of hell for him. Nobody could be expected to deal with all that had happened without being affected._

_Ortiz's expression softened a bit. "I haven't been able to locate your father." She'd known that would be a futile effort, but she had to try under the circumstances. "Your grandmother will be able to visit as her health allows."_

"_Visit?" Dante picked up on that word._

"_There's an opening at a home-" she started._

"'_Foster' or 'boys'?"_

"_You know the answer to that, Dante. Once you turn eighteen, you'll receive the trust fund your mother set up-but you'll have to abide by her stipulation that part of the money be used to pay for your college education," Ortiz hoped he understood what Barbra had done for him. _

"_Two years in the home. Yeah, can't wait."_

_Ortiz closed the files, regarding him seriously. "Dante, off the record, I'm sorry about Barbra. I miss her, too. And I'm sorry for everything that you've been through…" _

_Dante snorted. Was that supposed to make him feel better? He was in freaking baby jail and his mom, probably the only person who had truly given a crap whether he lived or died, was dead. It wasn't as if she could possibly have a clue how he felt. "No good deed goes unpunished." _

"…_but two years at Brook Ranch is better than two years in here, and you are very lucky that your mother made provisions for your future. She made sure you'd have a second chance. So, I really hope you don't piss that away. Try to stay out of trouble."_

_Still brooding, Dante was ushered back to the large cell he shared with five other boys (common areas having been converted to cells due to the overcrowded state prison system) by the tall, hairy guards he'd mentally nicknamed 'Popeye' and 'Bluto'. _

_He was just in time to pull the towel from his back pocket (the towel was contraband, since they didn't want the boys to have anything they could harm themselves with-so, each time the guards confiscated one, Dante managed to snag another, mostly to hack off the authority figures) and toss it to his cellmate, Deacon. The hulking teenager had just managed to ignite his own pant legs using glasses he'd 'borrowed' from another inmate. Deacon let out a yelp, somehow surprised at the tiny flames despite having spent a half-hour trying to create them._

"_Stop, drop, and roll, bud," Dante advised. _

"_Thanks, Dante." Deacon used towel to beat out the small flames._

"_You need help, Deke. I say that with love, man."_

_Deacon nodded in agreement. Seconds later, the guards rushed in, having seen the whole thing on the security cameras. They determined that the kid had not burned himself. They debated what to do with the exasperating prisoner. If they put him in solitary, he had a tendency to pass the time by pulling out his hair due to claustrophobia. If they left him in general population, he amused himself with antics like home tattoos and small fires. Dante figured one more stunt like this ought to land Deacon in a mental ward somewhere. In the end, they gave Deacon another warning and took the towel and glasses away. _

_Dante shook his head. He had to be surrounded by freaks when he was the most normal person in the cell block. He moved to his bunk and stretches out on the mattress. He was able to relax for exactly ten seconds before the bunk above his squeaked, shook, and a head bent over the side so two green, beady eyes could peer at Dante._

"_Hey, Rat."_

_Rat raised an eyebrow impatiently, demanding. "Well?"_

_Dante reached into another pocket and pulls out a bag, mindful that the cameras in the room didn't see. He passed it to Rat. The boy opened the bag and sniffed. A smile spread across his lips. "Colby?" he asked._

"_Feta."_

_Rat slapped his shoulder with a beefy hand, nearly sending Dante flying off the bunk. "You rock, dude."_

_Dante thought Rat used the word 'dude' far too much, but the kid was one-hundred eighty pounds of muscle and roughly the size of an ox, so Dante wasn't about to criticize. He had no idea what the boy's real name was-Dante had nicknamed him Rat for his cheese obsession. The fact that Dante was a) a 'musician' of sorts and b) able to procure his favorite snack even inside the prison walls played to Rat's two favorite things-rock music and cheese. In exchange for the food and a promise that he could be a roadie for Dante's band, Durasmell, Rat had appointed himself Dante's bodyguard…and Dante needed one in this place._

_The floor shook when Rat jumped from the bunk. He turned doleful green eyes on Dante. "So, you're really leaving?"_

_Word sure got around fast in this place, Dante thought. "Two days. Brook Ranch."_

_Rat and Deke look depressed. Deke nervously picked at green stuff growing beneath his fingernails. "I'd rather burn off my eyebrows than stay at the Ranch."_

_Dante decided that attitude might be more meaningful if the kid didn't burn off his eyebrows twice a month anyway just for the hell of it. "Not helping, Deke. Besides, anyplace is better than here."_

_He didn't believe his own words. On the other hand, Dante didn't much care where he ended up. Not anymore. He missed his mom. He even missed his deadbeat dad. There was no house, no home, to go back to, so what difference did it make what hole they tossed him down until his eighteenth birthday?_

_He drifted to sleep, the only way to escape the broody thoughts, until something that sounded like an explosion shook the walls of the prison. Dante snapped awake with such a jolt that he actually tumbled off the bunk. He saw the sky outside the barred windows was now dark. _

_Deke and another boy named Jonas were sitting on a bench, playing cards. Rat was tearing their last roll of toilet paper into dime-sized bits. They jumped to their feet and followed Dante as he ran for the window. They could hear the guards shouting outside. _

"_What was that?" Deke asked no one in particular. _

_Rat effortlessly boosted Dante up so he could reach the window. Seconds later, Deke was beside him, standing on Jonas' shoulders. _

_Both boys blinked, having no clue whatsoever what they were seeing. In the distance, a building was burning, that much was obvious. That wasn't the strange part-it explained the explosion. What they couldn't identify was a strange purple glow emanating from the site of the burning building…a purple glow and what looked like a purple dome of energy. As they watched, the dome expanded upwards and outwards, fed by a column of energy at its center._

"_And what the hell is _that_?" Dante asked._

_The purple field was heading directly for them…well, for the whole city, in fact. The juvenile prison was on the outskirts of the city, affording them a ringside seat for what happened next. As the boys watched, everything that came into contact with the energy-which was every structure and vehicle, period—was twisted, torn up, and reconstructed to look like something out of a video game. Dante studied the new structures, thinking there was something familiar about all of it. _

_Then he remembered-everything he was seeing, from medieval pub into towering lava domes, was straight out of the online game, 'Conqueror Of All Worlds'. He'd played a few times before the fire at Storm's house had wrecked his whole universe._

_ Dante didn't look away from the spectacle as he asked Deke, "Okay…I know you melted a few brain cells eating paint chips, but you're seeing this, too, right?"_

_ Wide-eyed, Deke nodded._

_ The purple energy field was picking up speed as it expanded. Dante realized it was going to hit the prison. He jumped from Rat's shoulders, shouting the only warning that came to his panicky mind: "Stop, drop, and roll!"_

_Deke tumbled to the floor beside Dante. "I think you mean 'duck and cover'!" _

"_That too!" Dante dove under his bunk, not exactly sure what good it was going to do. He curled up, arms protecting his head, just as his first grade teachers had taught him during earthquake drills, and squeezed his eyes shut._

_The ground shook like an earthquake. It was followed by what sounded like the building groaning as it was turned inside out. He sensed the bunk being lifted away and heard the grind of metal as it was torn apart. The cement beneath him turned to mud. He barely noticed and didn't care. The chaos seemed to last forever. _

_When the tremors finally subsided and the sounds of destruction gave way to eerie silence and the labored, frightened breaths of the other boys, Dante finally opened his eyes and dared to look around._

_The prison was now a dank dungeon, complete with torches, real rats, and scattered pools of moldy water on the dirt floor (at least, Dante hoped it was water). Even the bars of their cell were now rusted and ancient-looking. The walls were made of rock and mortar, with water running down the stones. Chains and empty manacles dangled from the walls. _

_The prisoners' jumpsuits were now filthy, tattered rags like they'd all just stepped out of the Dark Ages, and they were barefooted…all except Dante. He was dressed in black cloth that felt like it was made of Teflon and wore heavy black boots. He knew the uniform; it was the outfit of his avatar in 'Conqueror Of All Worlds'._

_He let out a gasp of surprise. "What?"_

_The yells and screams began…guards rushed by, similarly dressed like medieval peasants but now unarmed. The other cries came from adjoining cell blocks, probably the other prisoners having a hairy freak out, Dante guessed. There were also strange noises coming from outside. Dante ran back to the window, waving for Rat to boost him up again._

_Outside, the prison yard was gone, replaced with a drawbridge and moat. People were running-all of them dressed like they'd just stepped out of the game. They were running because they were being chased by monsters from the game. _

_He recognized the monsters. "Three-Toed Tenrecs? Mesmers?" In the game, these weirdos were the enforcers for the number one bad guy._

_Maldark._

_The Tenrecs formed a perimeter around the building. Mesmers were hypnotizing the terrified humans, bringing them under control. At the center of the commotion stood a Timiga hunter with a pet Frill-Necked Slimer. He was clearly the leader of this attachment of Maldark's soldiers._

"_What's going on out there?" Rat wanted to know._

"_Either the most awesome sci-fi convention, bar none, or we are in serious freaking shit," Dante answered._

_The Timiga faced the prison/dungeon, knowing all inside were watching or listening._

"_Humans. I am Saast, First One of Lord Maldark. As of this moment, you are now in his service. You will be collected and sent to assigned areas of labor. Failure to comply with our every order is grounds for immediate execution. Remain where you are an await instructions fro-"_

_The mutant's speech suddenly stopped when the stream of energy feeding the purple dome suddenly winked out. The expansion of the dome halted. Saast and the other mutants conferred, agitated._

_Dante heard the Timiga bark orders: "Something has gone wrong. Lord Maldark requires our assistance." He pointed the Mesmers towards the prison. "These humans are already contained. They pose no threat. Keep them here. I will return as soon as I am able." _

_With that, he led the Tenrecs away while the Mesmers remained on guard at the jail._

_Dante turned from the window, insanely afraid to be spotted watching them. He worked to mentally process what he'd just seen, what had just happened. "Okay, you all heard that, right?"_

_Rat was frowning. "Did he say 'Maldark'? The video game dude? Is this a joke?"_

_Dante shook his head. "Don't think so, no." He was working hard not to hyperventilate or fly into a major panic attack. The fact that everyone in the room was looking at him as if he should know what to do was not helping. "How do you feel about indentured servitude to a big, scary, purple warlock?"_

_They exchanged baffled looks. Jonas asked for everyone, "Denture what?"_

"_Slaves! Do you want to be slaves?"_

_They all shook their heads adamantly._

_Dante nodded. "Yeah, me either…we've got to get out of here."_

Dante answered Wyatt's question: "Be a henchman. Be a charcoal briquette. What would you have picked?"

Wyatt didn't believe that was all there was to it. He would bet it had something to do with that metal thing in Dante's neck, and that Maldark was to thank for that implant. "That's fair…but I know you, Dante. You aren't that guy."

"What do you think you know about me, Wyatt?"

The question was a dare. Wyatt sighed again. He was losing Dante behind that aggravating wall the kid used to put up to keep people at a distance. He hadn't seen this Dante since way back when they'd first met, before he'd gained the eccentric boy's trust.

"All right, you want proof? Well, first and foremost, I know there's no timeline where you'd set Principal Storm's house on fire. I know you have webbed toes and a dead skin collection. I know you can eat the most disgusting stuff ever without getting sick. I know you write really God-awful music. Do you believe me now?"

Dante wasn't smirking anymore. He looked uncertain.

"No? Need more proof? We're best friends, Dante. I've been to your house. I've seen your clothes sphere. I know your mom thinks condiments qualify as breakfast food…"

_Photo…_Wyatt needed to _show him the photo of Never Fail. That would help. _ He patted his pockets, searching for the picture.

He startled a bit when Dante was suddenly standing right in front of him. "You know Barbra?"

Something told Wyatt this was a test question…and it wasn't just because Guy was standing in the corner shaking his head in warning at Wyatt and the other Grinders were trading knowing looks. He didn't know how else to answer but to be truthful. "Sure. She's a little high strung, but nice…"

"When was the last time you were at our house?"

Another test question. Wyatt answered carefully. "In _my_ timeline? Two days ago. I take it back the eating thing-you couldn't keep Barbra's Soy Sauce Surprise down…"

Dante's face became a mask of cold, hard, fury.

"This is bullshit!" Dante gestured to Guy. "Lock him up. Maldark can have him," he ordered, heading up the staircase without looking back. If he looked at Wyatt again, he might just be tempted to use the Hail Razor's lethal setting on the liar.

"What?! What'd I say-?! Dante, wait!" Wyatt shouted as his friend walked away. "I also know there's no timeline where you'd ever let Maldark make you his errand boy! You were a knight! You shredded Maldark! If we find the Doublebacks, we can change things back to the way they're supposed to be. No henching, no-whatever happened to you on September 30, 2011-! _Dante_!"

His friend was gone. Wyatt didn't know if he'd even been listening.

The other Grinders were glaring as if they'd very much like to feed Wyatt to a Lava Belcher. Guy grabbed their prisoner and led him away, waving off the boys.

"What was that about? What did I say? Other than the whole 'alternate timeline' thing?" Wyatt asked the game leak.

Guy was trying to be patient, but his irritation with Wyatt showed in the downward curl of his lips. "If you wanted to succeed with your ploy, Mr. Wyatt, you shouldn't have tried lying about his mother."

That confused Wyatt all the more. "Barbra? But I didn't-"

"The Lady Barbra has been dead for seven months," Guy informed him.

Wyatt's mouth fell open. "What? How? When? Was it Maldark?"

Guy paused. There was something in this odd boy's tone that sounded like genuine sorrow. "No. Sir Dante would be cross with me for telling you, but…she died before the invasion. She was killed by a drunk driver. It happened while Sir Dante was incarcerated, I regret to say. Wrongfully incarcerated. You were correct about him. He's no ruthless murderer. It's just that his life depends on people believing otherwise."

Wyatt was stunned, at a loss for what to say. _Barbra was dead? And…wait, what did Guy say after that? _ "Incarcerated?"

"_Wrongfully_ incarcerated," Guy corrected.

"That shouldn't have happened…none of that was supposed to happen."

Guy escorted Wyatt to the room that had once been the school's photo lab. He unlocked the door and waved Wyatt inside. "Be warned, Mr. Black: I am a gentleman, but Sir Dante is my friend. If you use his mother to try to manipulate him again, you _will_ answer to me."

"I'd never do that." Wyatt wished he could prove his words to the avatar. "You're like a house father or something?"

That made the portly man smile. He supposed it was an apt description. "A friend. Not everyone from the game is in league with Maldark."

"Trust me I know…and I'm not sure how you ended up meeting Dante, but I'm betting it had something to do with gathering frogs. That's how it happened in my timeline," Wyatt guessed.

"Indeed, it did." Guy was thoughtful for a moment, finally deciding. "I truly regret this, Mr. Wyatt. I would like to believe you. I would prefer your timeline to this one."

With a last, apologetic glance, he locked Wyatt in the lab.

Dante was more than a little rattled after the conversation with Wyatt, not to mention pissed off. Naturally, that's when the Mesmer appeared to block his path, projecting the image of the last 'person' he felt like dealing with at the moment.

Maldark's hologram demanded: "Where is the fugitive?"

Dante was tempted to tell him exactly where to come get Wyatt. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't do it. Wyatt might be at the top of Dante's list of Major Cramps, but Maldark was still number two on that list. "Didn't the Mesmers show you? He's dust. I fragged him when he set his feet on my steps."

The warlock was pleased, for a change. "Congratulations-you've dispatched Mahtava and the dissident both on the same day. Perhaps there are limits to your incompetence."

The compliment only made Dante feel like scum. He still managed to force a cocky smile. "It's what I do, boss."

Maldark's sneer returned. "As a reward, I'll let you live a bit longer…but bring me Hugginson and the Genesis Orb before I change my mind, boy."

This time, Dante expected the parting shot of electricity, but it still made him stumble a bit. He bit his tongue, damned if he was going to make a sound of pain while Maldark can hear and the frigging Mesmer was watching.

Once Maldark cut the connection and the implant stops burning, Dante staggered back to his 'room', which was the principal's old office. He had no idea what happened to any of the school faculty during the invasion. He didn't want to know. He shut the door, like that was going to hide him from Maldark and his minions.

Dante sat on his 'mattress', another bag of cardboard and trash. He couldn't keep doing this much longer, and he knew it. Deke was right-Maldark was going to figure out the truth and then he'd kill all of them.

_How'd you get stuck henching for Maldark? I know you, Dante. You aren't that guy._

Dante almost smiled. _It was a nice thought at least…_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: "Level Up" is not mine. I only own my original characters and my typos._

**6**

_ A week passed between the night of the invasion and the morning that Maldark's army of Tenrec soldiers and Mesmers returned to the juvenile prison-turned-dungeon. During the interminable wait, former guards and prisoners were locked up together, left to their own dark speculations about what would happen when the invaders returned for them. Mesmers had patrolled the passages of the dungeon, subduing any prisoner who so gave the slightest hint of rebellion or other such disobedience. Most of the humans were kept in submissive trances…_

_ …most save for about one dozen of the boys, including Dante, Rat, and Deacon. The first time the Mesmers had used their hypnotic powers on the teenagers, they'd made a discovery: The Mesmers' power had no effect on them. Somehow, the boys were impervious to the avatars' mind-control. Knowing their survival hinged upon keeping that advantage a secret, they'd become quite good at fooling their captors. All they had to do is stand there with blank expressions, maybe drool now and then, and the Mesmers were none the wiser._

_ They waited. They watched their captors as intently as their guards watched them. Those who had families somewhere in the city wondered and worried about them. It was the first time Dante found any consolation about losing his mom-at least she wasn't out there, at the mercy of the freaks that had overrun the city. _

_And they planned._

_ The preparation made it no less terrifying the morning that Saast led his army to the dungeon to collect the prisoners. Dante rewrote lyrics from his band inside his mind to distract himself from the fear, to keep his hands from shaking when the Tenrecs began sorting the humans into lines and chaining them together in groups of ten. He sneaked glances in the direction of the other boys. Their blank expressions would fool their captors, but Dante had spent weeks with this group. He saw the telltale beads of sweat on their brow and the twitches at the corners of their eyes that betrayed fear. Only Rat exuded the genuine calm of someone truly out of his freaking mind. _

_ The lizard general and his pet slug was inspecting each line of prisoners, barking orders to his spiky porcupine soldiers. "This group goes to the farms," he said of the first line of teenage prisoners. A Mesmer led them away, flanked by Tenrec guards. Saast turned to a line of former prison guards next. "These humans are strong. Good laborers. Send them to the mines." Like the other groups, the prisoners were led away by a Mesmer and Tenrecs._

_ The Timiga's gaze fell on Dante…in particular, to the black uniform the boy had been cursed with during the transformation of the prison. Saast's reptilian mouth curled into a scowl. Dante could swear the slug on his shoulder hissed at him as well. He resisted the urge to find a salt shaker and melt the slimy little creature. _

"_This one—you had a game avatar. You are a game warrior," Saast observed. "How unfortunate. Maldark's instructions were explicit. Game warriors must be executed. We'll see how well you fight in the Grimferno before you finally die." He turned his back to the boys to address the last Mesmer. "Send the rest of them to the factories."_

_Dante managed to keep the blank expression, despite being freaked out by the threat. When the monsters looked away, he and the other boys dare to blink. _

_Rat sneezed, dislodging the narrow length of metal that had been hidden up his nose. He scrubbed a hand across his face, cringing. "I think I punctured my brain, man…"_

"_Ssh!" Dante spit out a nearly identical pin that he'd hidden in his mouth. All along their line of prisoners, the other boys were removing their improvised lock picks from their sleeves, socks, and any other place they'd been able to hide them. "We have to do this fast."_

_Deacon made a face at him. "Really? Think so?"_

_Luckily, this was juvenile hall, and every boy in there had learned how to pick a lock…especially the archaic shackles that the monsters were using. The humans were being taken from the building. The boys were about to be dragged out the door…after that, it would be too late._

_In the prison yard, Saast watched the lines of humans being led from the prison. A Tenrec lieutenant was giving the General the morning report. "I regret to inform you, the hunters were driven back at the Stenchwater Swamp. The Shrieking Delilahs were too-"_

_Saast's tail thrashed. The Tenrec braced himself to dodge in case his general should spit a fang in his direction. "In other words, Hugginson defeated your mighty warriors with some smelly flowers and pond scum. What an impressive lot are your Tenrec scourge…confounded again and again by human children. Gather five Timiga Hunters willing to follow me into the swamps. I'll show you how to deal with h-"_

_His tirade ended when he noticed that, in the line of human prisoners who were marching past, there were eight now-empty shackles being dragged along._

"_Stop!" He looked over the faces of the humans. It was difficult to tell one ugly human from the next, but Saast specifically could see that the human boy in black was among the missing. "Where is the game warrior? Where are the other prisoners?"_

_Typically, the Mesmer was silent. The Tenrec guards' quills stood on end in alarm as they realized their mistake. Saast ran inside, but found empty hallway where the boys had been seconds earlier._

"_Search the building!" Saast yelled._

_The Tenrec lieutenant mocked: "Confounded by human children, Saast?" The avatar exploded into a spray of computer coding when Saast spat a fang dead center into the lieutenant's forehead._

_Gently, Saast set his frill-necked slug onto the ground. "Hunt," he cooed to the beast. The slug picked up the boys' scent and let Saast, the Tenrecs, and the Mesmers deeper into the dungeons._

"_Is this a bad time to point out that we have no plan beyond getting out of the cuffs?" Deacon asked as they made their way through the winding passages of what had once been juvenile hall. Every door in the former prison had been replaced by heavy wooden doors and rusted, barred gates. The boys closed and bolted as many of the doors as they could behind them, hoping to slow down the monsters that were close behind. "Do you even know where we're going?"_

_ Dante had only played the game a few times before he'd gone into juvy, so he was trying to remember the game characters—for starters the lizard man and the porcupine men-as well as their weaknesses. He wracked his brain for any recollection of the game that could help them elude their captors. He was dressed like his avatar; he just wished he had his avatar's weapon and powers, too. The boys were turning to Dante as if he somehow had all the answers because he had played the game. It was adding pressure when he wasn't feeling too sane or sure of himself in the first place._

"_If we don't know what we're doing, they won't know what we're doing. It's a perfect plan," Dante answered. _

_Jonas laughed at that. "Do you just make this crap up?"_

"_Most of it," Dante admitted._

_He skidded to a stop at the alcove that had once been the storage unit for prisoners' personal effects. The boxes were still there and still tucked away behind rusted bars. Dante stretched his hand between the bars, fumbling for the box with his name on it._

_Only the hope that Dante somehow had a plan for their survival kept Deacon and the others from leaving him behind as he wasted precious seconds on what they saw as a pointless effort. "What are you doing? We've got to go!" Deke demanded._

"_Just need some supplies." _

"_Any idea where to go now?" Rat asked, the picture of complete trust in the older boy._

_Dante snagged his box, pulling out the backpack and skateboard that had been confiscated when he was arrested a lifetime ago. Somehow, he felt less vulnerable with these back in his possession._

_The cries of approaching Tenrecs brought the vulnerable feeling back full force._

_He pointed at the dirt floor of the dungeon. The ground had been disturbed much as if a mole had tunneled beneath the prison…if the mole was the size of a small house. "Dig. Dig for China," Dante told the others, demonstrating by pushing aside the loosened dirt with his bare hands._

_Saast's fat slime slug oozed its way through the barred door of the former locker room, following the humans' scent. This time, Dante was sure the thing hissed when it spied him. While the others dug frantically, he picked up his skateboard and swung it like a bat, propelling the slug back. The slug hit the bars of the door, which sliced it neatly in half._

_Now, two slime slugs snarled at the escaping humans._

_His eyes widened. _Okay_..._

_It didn't take long, working together, for the boys to break through the mound of dirt into the tunnel below. The Tunnel was huge. _

"_What do you suppose made this tunnel?" Rat asked nervously._

"_And, more importantly, is it still down here?" Deacon added._

_Dante guessed, "I only played the game like three times, but I think it's a Chameleomole burrow."_

_Rat nodded, despite having not a clue what a 'chameleomole' was. "Is that good or bad?"_

_Saast's face appears behind the barred door. The two slime slug slid up his arms. He bared his fangs and spat one at the dark-haired game warrior. Reflex saved Dante. He lifted the skateboard just in time for the razor-sharp tooth to imbed itself in the deck. Roaring, his frilled neck fanning out to make him look ten times as fearsome, Saast grabbed the bars and begins ripping the heavy door off its hinges._

_Dante waved the others towards the hole they'd made. "That's bad. Jump! Jump and then run!"_

_Saast pried the door open enough for a Tenrec to squeeze its arm into the room. Unable to aim with its movement limited, the quills missed Dante by at least a foot…still too close for his comfort._

_As they dove into the tunnel, Dante did his best to cover their escape. He dug into his backpack, willing himself not to panic, until he found a fistful of small stink bombs. He remembered using them to annoy Barbra, and the memory brought another surge of grief…but only for a minute. Grief gave way to determination. _

_He hurled one of the bombs at the Tenrecs trying to break down the door. The monsters recoiled, the odor overwhelming their sensitive noses. For good measure, Dante dropped the remaining two bombs into the tunnel. The Tenrecs would think twice before they jumped down there to chase the other boys._

_Saast would have smacked the porcupine beasts had they not been covered in poisonous quills. "It's nothing but gas! Seize the game warrior, you fools!" _

_The Tenrecs sent another volley of quills in Dante's direction, driving him away from the mouth of the tunnel. The needles struck his backpack. He knew the next round would make a pin cushion out of him. Cut off from the tunnel, Dante found another exit-this one a more solid, wooden door with a large bar that slid down to lock it. He hoped the guys were making their way down the tunnel. If he was right, it would let them out at the river in the park._

_He'd reached the part of the dungeon that used to be the kitchen and delivery area. It was there that Dante finally found a window that was covered only with wooden shutters. He pushed them open easily and climbed out._

_Once he was outside, it didn't take the Mesmers long to spot him and sound the alarm. Dante took off on the skateboard, dodging various game mutants that tried to intercept him and jumping piles of rubble that blocked the sidewalks and streets. He was moving too quickly for the Tenrecs to keep up with him._

_The Skelehawks, however, overtook the human with almost no effort. Dante glanced up to see the skeleton birds circle above and then dive at him. Their Rib Cages splayed like giant jaws. He dodged the first two swoops, but the third time, he felt the bones close around him and lift him off the skateboard._

_Crap…Skelehawks, these were level three monsters. Dante had fought them in the game. How the hell had he broken out of the Rib Cages…?_

_Ribs…_

_The ribs closed around him, nearly pinning his arms to his sides. Nearly…but not entirely. Dante could just barely fit his lower arm between two of the beast's ribs. Able to bend his arm at the elbow, he fumbled for the fourth rib from the top of the bird's rib cage. He pulled against the rib with all his might. It snapped off in his hands._

_The rest of the Skelehawk broke apart, falling to the earth as nothing but a pile of bones…Dante falling with it. He landed on the mounded hive of a Scurr swarm. _

_The bat-like Scurr descended upon the prone figure…until a shrill bleat from the Mesmers made them scatter like the mindless creatures they were. Tenrecs surrounded Dante; Saast glared down at him._

"_Kill the game warrior," Saast ordered._

"_Stop!" _

_Maldark had observed the chase with his viewing globe until he could no longer stomach the failure of his minions. The warlock himself materialized behind the Tenrecs, who stepped aside at once to make way for their master. Maldark offered the Timiga general a scathing glare as he passed. Saast dared not look him in the eye._

"_This is the second time since we've crossed over into this world that a wretched human has escaped you, Saast. Perhaps you should go to the Grimferno and this boy should lead my armies—" Maldark gestured to the teenager who lay prone on the remains of the Scurr hive. "Perhaps he'd bring back my Genesis Orb without being cowed by a stink bomb or a gas-spewing flower."_

_Saast had no answer for that._

_The boy had watched-against his will-every broadcast that Maldark had made since the invasion. He knew full well who the warlock was._

"_You human children intrigue me-obviously, my Mesmers cannot control you and my hunters have nearly let you escape." Maldark considered the bothersome teenager. "Tell me, boy, why your people placed you in their dungeons?"_

_Dante told the overlord what he hoped would keep him alive for a few more minutes. "I….didn't like my principal…so I burned his house."_

_Maldark was amused by that. "I have no idea what a 'principal' is, but I believe I understand. I found the Sobo Grenwald disagreeable, so I burned him."_

"_Harsh."_

_Maldark gestured for Dante to stand. Shakily, the boy pushed himself to his feet. The warlock held out his viewing globe, replaying the theft of the Genesis Orb for Dante to see. Dante remembered the orb and the football player who'd stolen it from the endless broadcasts. _

"_This item was taken from me by a human child, a game warrior like yourself. If I were to offer you your life in exchange for retrieving my Genesis Orb, what would you say?" Maldark asked._

_Life…life was good…but getting his ass handed to him by Lyle Hugginson and his football buddies was not going to impress Maldark. Then again, if he said 'no', Maldark would probably kill Dante then and there. "Yeah, okay, I'd say 'I need help'."_

_Maldark snapped his fingers. A flock of Skelehawks descended upon the street. Dante saw Rat, Deacon, and the other boys trapped in the birds' Rib Cages. He bit his tongue to keep from cursing. Another snap of the overlord's fingers, and the skeleton birds released their prisoners._

"_You may have them," Maldark said._

_Okay, ten nerds against the offensive line of the Daventry Hills Trojans still didn't tilt the odds in Dante's favor. "I need more help."_

"_I will consider it." _

_At the least, the deal might buy Dante time to figure out a better way to escape…and it was better than the Grimferno…whatever that was, it just sounded nasty. Dante offered the warlock a cocky grin. "Who do I have to shred?"_

"_Impudence. Bravado. Ego…and willingness to betray your own kind. I like you, boy." Maldark approved. "Of course, such qualities would preclude any sort of trust between us. One doesn't let a dog off its leash without guarantee that the beast will obey his commands. You can evade my armies and my Mesmers cannot control you. What to do about that?"_

_The warlock waved his hand and some kind of projectile flew from his fingertips to imbed itself in Dante's neck. He clamped a hand over the spot and felts a piece of metal stuck there. A quick check, and he saw that the other boys now had identical implants._

_When Maldark spoke, Dante heard the words with his ears, but also inside his mind. "Try to remove it, and you will dissolve into the worthless pool of chemicals that compose your useless flesh, human. Betray me or disobey me, and…" By demonstration, burning pain began to radiate from the shard in Dante's neck. He heard the other boys scream, but he refused to give the overlord the satisfaction. "…there will be consequences. Have I made myself clear?"_

_Dante wanted to make a smart-ass comment, but he was seeing spots and his nerves were burning from the shock. It was all he could do to stay on his feet, and he didn't want to give Maldark a reason to zap him again. He managed to nod in response._

"_Good."_

_Another wave of his hand, and Dante's skateboard appeared in the teenager's hands. As Dante watched, it morphed into a wheel-free hover board. Any other time, this would have been Christmas and Dante's birthday all rolled into one awesome package. The Skelehawk rib that Dante had forgotten he was still clutching transformed into a Hail Razor. Identical boards and weapons were given to the other boys. _

_Maldark nodded. "Now, let us discuss your duties as my new hunters." He saw Saast glowering in humiliation…and added salt to the Timiga's wounded pride. "He cannot fail me any worse than you have, Saast."_

_The twin slime slugs on his shoulders sensed their master's antipathy and hissed. They meant to be comforting, but the only thing that would console Saast now would be wrapping his clawed fingers around the dark-haired boy's neck and wringing his head from his shoulders… _

Dante's reverie was interrupted when someone punched him right between the shoulder blades. This time he did let out an involuntary yelp of pain. He whirled to face his attacker, not at all surprised to see a very angry, red-skinned, masked figure wielding a boomerang-shaped weapon.

Lyle returned to find the camp in an uproar. His friends met him halfway home, letting loose a barrage of questions.

Natalie wasn't a girl given to tears, but her eyes were puffy as if a few tears had fallen. "Is it true?"

Reggie had the Genesis Orb, which was aglow with images. "The broadcasts are showing the Grinders whacking that crazy guy from the tavern."

Lyle watched his dad announcing the news: "…of First One Saast are reporting the execution of two more dissidents: The marauder, Mahtava, who is responsible for the deaths of thirty human slaves this morning in the factory district." The image shifted from Maynard Hugginson to show Onterro and his Grinders taking out a masked figure…and a couple dozen fleeing human slaves along with him. The news continued: "…and the unknown warlock, who was executed by the Grinders while trying to incite mutiny against our glorious lord, Maldark."

Now, the orb showed Wyatt being vaporized by Dante. Lyle shut his eyes. He didn't need to see the replay after seeing the whole thing live and in person.

The others read the answer in Lyle's furious features. Their faces fell, and for a moment his anger shifted—just so slightly-in their direction. _What had they expected? They knew what the Grinders were capable of, and hadn't they all insisted that Wyatt was crazy? Did they really fall for that garbage about alternate universes? Were they dumb enough to believe the computer geek was the key to finally ending this invasion?_ _Had Wyatt gotten to them like he'd gotten to Lyle?_

"Praise to you, citizens, for your bravery against sedition. All glory to-"

Lyle had to rein in his urge to smash the monitor. He punched his gloved fist through the windshield of a smashed and twisted car, wishing it was Onterro's face or, better still, Maldark's. The glass did not so much as tear his gloves.

"Little cramp's had a busy day," he snarled.

Natalie was pale, partially from the news and partially from Lyle's outburst. "The Grinders really killed Wyatt? Where were you?"

"What did you want me to do, Nat? Jump out of the bushes and take on all of them by myself? I warned the guy! You heard it!" Lyle defended. He stared at the Gula Muncher as it sat back on its three legs and whimpered like a dog. _Wish the damn thing had bitten off Onterro's head instead of just taking a bite of his arm._

Kowalski slumped down onto a log, feeling hope he didn't know he'd had was suddenly ripped away. "He was crazy, but he was the only one who knew how to kill Maldark. We needed him."

Lyle remembered everything Wyatt said about the 'superweapon'…particularly how they had supposedly forged the weapon. "No…we need a sorcerer."

_Not only a sorcerer; they needed a Thunder Pole. The only avatars who carried that weapon were wizards or warlocks…_

"And I know just where to find one," Lyle nodded to himself. He jutted his chin, nodding for the others to follow him as he turned around and headed back towards the city.

McCobb asked, "Exactly where are we going?"

Lyle grinned that, despite the question, McCobb picked up a weapon and followed anyway. Reggie, Kowalski, Natalie, and Bob fell in more reluctantly, gathering their own weapons. Bob said something in Neanderthal tongue to the others of his horde, and a few also followed.

"Sculpture Park," Lyle answered.


	7. Chapter 7

_Dislclaimers: See Chapter One. On with the story…_

**7**

Wyatt had been pacing around the photo lab for two hours, wondering if anyone was watching or listening, if Dante was really going to hand him off to Maldark-not that he'd blame him if Dante thought Wyatt was using his mom's death to trick him. _At least that explained what kept Dante from playing the game and joining Never Fail. Dante had gone to juvy and Barbra was dead. Could this universe get any worse?_

Wyatt really needed to get out of this timeline.

Waiting for something to happen, for them to kill him or Maldark's Tenrecs to break down the door and take him, was making Wyatt crazy. Wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing wasn't helping. He searched the lab for something that might help him escape. There wasn't much left in the demolished room except a pair of tongs and a broken pair of scissors. He could try digging out of the room with the tongs, but he really hoped he wasn't going to be locked in there for the six to seven years it would take to accomplish that task. He tried picking the lock with the half-scissors, but that didn't work out at all.

Ultimately, he sat down against the door and started talking, just in case there was a guard or anyone on the other side who was willing to listen.

"Once again, I'm very sorry about the misunderstanding. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I really can help get rid of Maldark if you would just _open the freaking door and listen for one minute_!" When no one answered, Wyatt picked up the scissors and tried again to pick the door lock.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone kicked the cover off the air conditioner in the ceiling. A masked figure drops into the room. Wyatt brandished the sad little half-scissors in self-defense. When the monster stepped towards him, the teenager warned. "No, don't come any closer. I have a…scissor."

"Wow. There's no way that could have sounded threatening even in your head."

He stared at the intruder. The clothing was different, the mask was different, but the computer-distorted voice was familiar and he was not lightly to forget the Atomic Wedge that hung from the avatar's belt. Was this avatar related to the red-skinned hunter from the tavern? _What had they called him? Mahtava, yes, that was it_.

The avatar cocked his head at Wyatt. "You're a computer genius and your go-to escape plan is picking the lock? What were you planning to do if you did get the door open? Appeal to the Grinders' humanity again? How'd that work out for you?"

The avatar called him a 'computer genius'. That meant he/she/it recognized Wyatt…more than recognized, maybe even knew him.

"Have we met? In this timeline?" Wyatt asked.

The hunter was picking up an intact chair and setting it beneath the open air duct. "You want out of here or do you want to keep asking questions and waving your pathetic little scissor at me? Is that the thanks I get for saving your butt again?"

Wyatt dropped the scissor. "You _are_ the avatar from the tavern! You tried to kill me!"

The avatar gave a snort beneath that mask. "How did I do that? By cutting through that fence so you could escape that monster mob?"

He scratched his head. "You did that on purpose?" Somehow, in his panicked state, that hadn't even occurred to Wyatt.

When he kept standing there, Mahtava grew impatient. He came over to grab the teenager and bodily shoved him towards the chair, gesturing for him to climb into the duct. Up close, Wyatt got a better look at the avatar's red flesh.

It was red paint.

"You're human!" he gaped.

"I take it back. You _are_ a genius." It sounded more like sarcasm than a compliment.

Something in the sass was also familiar. Wyatt stared. The hunter might be hidden beneath layers of tattered clothing and armor, but he recognized the posture, the impatient stance… "_Angie_?"

The masked figure froze for a second, hesitating. Finally, she removed the mask to confirm it.

Wyatt was stunned. "But…they said you were dead…what…how…when?" She was not vaporized! She was alive and armed to the teeth and offering to help. Overjoyed, he tried to hug her. Angie used her Krav Maga skills to flip him over her shoulder. He landed on the floor with a painful thud.

"Ow." Nevertheless, he grinned up at the girl. "Fine, but I'm still happy to see you. You're alive! How'd you know I was here?"

Angie offered him a hand up. "A friend told me. And I'd like to stay alive, so if we're done with the reunion, can we get moving before the Grinders find out I'm here?"

She used chair to boost herself back into the air duct. Wyatt followed, still seeking an explanation. "Lyle said the Grinders killed you."

She led the way as they crawled along the ducts. "Who's 'Lyle'? He's misinformed."

"Lyle didn't send you?"

"Again, who's Lyle?" she repeated.

Wyatt was confused. "No one else knows I'm here, so, seriously, who sent you? Wait, was it Guy?" Considering Guy's level of loyalty to the Grinders, that didn't seem likely.

They had made their way to the vent above the gymnasium. Angie checked to see that the room was empty before she kicked out the grate and dropped to the floor. Wyatt stayed close behind. She closed to the far corner of the gym, near the mangled bleachers. There, she opened a hidden trapdoor. Beneath it was a ladder. Angie led the climb down into the tunnel below. Wyatt kept up the barrage of questions.

"Okay, you aren't going to tell me. And you don't know Lyle…but you do know _me_?" Wyatt stared with interest at the huge tunnel they'd entered. It was big enough for a train to pass through. The walls had a metallic sheen. He was pretty sure only a Chameleomole could have made this tunnel. The pieces of skin shed by the monster confirmed as much.

"Wyatt Black. Daventry Hills' favorite computer buddy. Yeah, I know you."

As soon as Wyatt jumped off the ladder, Angie whirled suddenly to shove the wedge against his throat. He choked out: "What-?"

Angie's eyes narrowed. "I know you're dead, Wyatt, 'in this timeline'. Who are you really and what kind of game are you playing? Pardon the expression."

He found it difficult to talk and think with a weapon stuck in his neck, but Angie's grip was freakishly strong. He did his best to rasp out: "Okay, let's just do the short version this time. Stole a chronometer-this chronometer-" He fished the timepiece from his pocket and held it up for her to see. "-from the Doubleback. Maldark sent it went back in history and screwed up our timeline. Photo of us from the other timeline." Again, Wyatt displayed the item in question and Angie managed to look without relaxing her hold on his neck. "No, it isn't photo-shopped. That's you, me, Lyle, and Dante. We called ourselves Never Fail, and we stopped Maldark's invasion."

Angie was interested now. "How?"

"Lyle-t_hat's_ Lyle," Wyatt pointed him out in photo, "used a sorcerer's flame spell that merged our weapons into one superweapon that sent Maldark back into the game."

Angie frowned.

"That's why I was looking for you and Dante and Lyle-you're my best friends, the only ones I knew would believe me, the only ones who would help me figure out what Maldark messed up in our history and fix it."

She took the photo from his hand and pocketed it. He hoped that meant she believed him. Her frown turned into an out-and-out scowl. "So you're BFFs with Maldark's Most Wanted and the little traitor-"

Anger at the accusation made him forget to be afraid of the weapon at his neck. He broke free of her grip and dodged out of her reach before she could try to pin him again. "Don't call him that! Dante could've killed me, but he didn't."

She shook her head at him. "No, he just locked you up to hand you over to Maldark…"

"He's still my friend, in any timeline. I don't care what you _think_ he's done."

Angie crossed her arms. "Yeah, whatever you say, champ. Say I believe this-did you figure it out? What Maldark messed up?"

Wyatt held up the chronometer again. "I figured out he kept Lyle from becoming Wizza by injuring him in a football game…it happened on this day." He pointed to the date on the broken chronometer. "About a year ago, I guess. Something happened to Dante that day, too, that got him thrown in jail, which I'm guessing was the end of Sir Bickle…and his mom is dead because of that." He forced a smile at her. "You're here. At least Maldark left you alone. What about me? How did I die 'in this timeline'?"

She balked, but Wyatt demanded: "Hey, I think that's a reasonable question!"

Angie raised an eyebrow at him. "You sure you want to hear it? It's not going to be creepy and weird for you?"

"It absolutely will be...but yeah, I want to hear it."

Angie nodded. "For some reason, you already knew about the Leaks before Maldark invaded. You were running around trying to 'bard' them. You had some weird guy with a lute following you around the school, that was pretty strange. I figured out what was happening when I saw the Leaks abduct Max Ross."

"Just like in my timeline…and we went to the server farm together to save Max, right?" Wyatt guessed.

"That's right. And to try to shut down the servers, patch the firewall, stop the invasion, but-"

Wyatt knew what went wrong. "It didn't work. We didn't have Dante and Lyle to help…thanks to the Doublebacks screwing with our history. No Dante and Lyle meant no superweapon to stop Maldark. I'm glad to know I tried, at least. What happened next?"

Angie looked at the ground, toeing the dirt with her boot. "Maldark sent you and Max into the game-then he set off some kind of orb bomb, destroyed the server farm and erased the game…while you two were still inside."

She was right; it was creepy and weird to hear the details of his demise. "He let you live?"

"I didn't have an avatar. I wasn't a game warrior…I wasn't a threat." It was clear she found that insulting.

Wyatt grinned at her. "Showed him, didn't you?"

Angie smiled a bit, but it was a rather grim smile. "He left me in the server farm when he set off the bomb. He assumed I burned up with it." Wyatt's eyes widened, horrified at that. "Like you said-I showed him."

"And my family?"

_Did the kid ever run out of questions_? she wondered. Then, she remembered how many questions she'd had after waking up in the rubble of the server farm to find her city overrun by video game monsters. "Non-game warriors were made into slaves. Your family's probably alive. Miserable, but alive."

"And your family?"

She was surprised he asked. "Safe for now."

They lapsed into silence, each mulling the answers the other had provided. Angie led the way along the tunnel. She knew every inch of every Chameleomole tunnel in the city. She had explored them all trying to find if one tunnel ran beneath the force field to the outside of the barricade. What she'd discovered was that the energy wall stretched all the way underground…and the charred remains of the Chameleomoles that has tried to pass through the wall were sufficient warning not to touch the barrier.

The tunnel angled downhill until they finally came to a fork. A little ways down the left fork, the passage opened into a massive cavern.

Wyatt stared in awe. The cavern was enormous and teeming with people…hundreds of dirty and looking tired and hungry, but alive. Guy moved among them, lugging the crates of food Wyatt had seen at the tavern and again in the Grinders' headquarters above the tunnel.

"Whoah-who are-?" Wyatt recalled Lyle talking about how many people the Grinders had 'vaporized'…maybe they'd been 'executed' just like Wyatt. "-these are the people the Grinders supposedly killed, right?"

Angie patted his shoulder. "Ah, see, he is quick after all. Maldark doesn't come looking for slaves or dissidents if he thinks they're dead. This is the only place in the city where Maldark's goons can't see or hear us."

Wyatt was impressed. There had to be at least two hundred people taking refuge in the massive cavern. "And you rescued all these people from the Grinders?"

"She had some help."

Dante leaned against the cavern wall. Distracted by the throng of activity and the surprise discovery of what was in the tunnels, Wyatt had walked right past the Grinders' leader without noticing him. He heard Angie's soft gasp of surprise. He stepped between her and Dante, hoping to buy her a few seconds to escape if his one-time friend decided to start shooting with that Hail Razor. He only regretted that they'd led him to the refugees, for he was sure to bring Mald…

Angie pushed past Wyatt and stormed over to Dante. "You shouldn't be down here! If Maldark finds out-"

Dante ended her tirade by kissing her. She not only let him get away with it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Watching two of his best friends tongue-stabbing each other was not Wyatt's biggest shock since the timeline changed…but it might have been the grossest. They'd momentarily forgotten about him (and everyone else in the tunnels paid the teenagers absolutely no mind), so he tried to process the disturbing sight.

Finally, he figured it out: "Wait-_he's_ the friend who told you to bring me to the tunnels?"

_Dante's reverie was interrupted when someone punched him right between the shoulder blades. This time he did let out an involuntary yelp of pain. He whirled to face his attacker, not at all surprised to see a very pissed off, red-skinned, masked figure wielding a boomerang-shaped weapon._

"_Damn, girl, that hurt!" He glared at 'Mahtava', rotating his arm just to make sure she didn't break his freaking shoulder. Wasn't it bad enough she'd almost broken his nose during their 'fight' at the foundry?_

_She circled around the wreckage of broken computers, piles of unusable clothing, items scavenged from the school, and the worn out mattress with threadbare blankets that was Dante's room in the Grinders' HQ. "Be glad I didn't punch you someplace else."_

"_And did you steal my socks?" Dante added. He already knew the answer, since he'd found his old gym socks lying on the sidewalk outside the factory. "Why are you so psycho today?"_

'_Mahtava' pulled off her mask and threw it at him. He batted it away in self-defense. Arms crossed and staring daggers at him, Angie Prietto was no less intimidating than she'd been with the mask. "You could have given me a little warning when you decided to kill 'Mahtava'…I can't believe you fragged another one of my avatars! Now I'm stuck here until I come up with a new one!" She started stripping off the armor, boots, and tunic of her disguise. It wasn't as if she could use them again. She wasn't in the mood to try to scrub the red paint off her arms and neck, so she left it alone for the time being._

_He supposed that was a fair complaint. Dante hadn't been able to get her alone to tell her about Maldark's threats that morning, or that he'd had to 'execute' Mahtava to appease the warlock for a little while longer. Since Angie Prietto was supposed to be dead, the only way she could poke her nose out of the tunnels was if in disguise as an avatar like Mahtava. Angie had spent three weeks as Mahtava, rescuing human slaves and allowing the Grinders try to capture her as a good show for Maldark. The Grinders would 'vaporize' the fleeing humans, and Mahtava would make a narrow escape during the confusion. Now, they had to start the cycle over again with a new avatar._

_Dante started rifling through boxes and trash bags, pulling out pieces of armor and outfits he'd taken from various monsters during the past few months. "You know the deal. I can't keep letting 'Mahtava' escape. Maldark gets upset. I'll set you up with a new disguise-and, by the way, could you not leave your mask lying around? Maldark almost saw it this morning."_

_She rummaged for the cleanest tank top and shorts that she could find. Living in a burned out high school in a burned out city during an alien invasion didn't leave access to conveniences like washing machines or showers. They were lucky just to have drinking water. Feeling somewhat more human in the comfortable clothing, Angie stretched out on her half of the mattress and watched him, unapologetic. "Whose fault is that? You're the one who likes me to wear it, perv."_

_He didn't deny that. "Better believe it-it's like bringing home the hottest girl at Comic Con."_

_Angie knew in geek world that was high praise and felt somewhat appeased—flattered even. Still, she hid a small grin and rolled her eyes. "Terrific. I'm Queen of the Nerds."_

_In response, he started tossing pieces of clothing onto her until she finally started tossing them right back. "Did I see Gus and Philbert with the group from the factory?" Dante hadn't been able to get a good look at the people they had liberated that morning before he'd had to start teleporting them to the tunnels. "They okay?"_

"_They're confused, could stand to gain back some weight, but they're all right." Now that she was calming down and taking a good look at Dante, she finally noticed that he was not quite steady on his feet, and that he was singed around his neck implant. Again. Alarmed, she sat up. "You're not all right."_

_He shrugged. _

_Angie grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto the mattress so that she could inspect the red burn. Damn Maldark. She used some of their small water supply to wet down a piece of cloth and pressed it over the gruesome welt on his neck. "What happened?" _

_Absently, he reached out and gently touched the rough patch of Chameleomole skin grafted to her neck, hiding her own battle scars. _

"_Doesn't matter. I brought in someone," he finally said._

_There was iciness to his tone that told her just how this 'someone' had gotten under Dante's skin. "Who is it? You need me to take him to the tunnels-or smack him around a little?"_

_That got a smile out of him. Dante thought it over. Angie knew Wyatt Black before the invasion. She'd told Dante the story about going with the geek to try to stop Maldark at the server farm. If anyone could figure out if he was an imposter, it would be her. "I want you to help me figure out if this guy is for real or if he's crazier than me."_

_She raised an eyebrow. "Nobody's crazier than you."_

_It was his turn to be flattered. "Thank you." For a reward, he produced a new avatar mask from underneath the debris pile and offered it to her._

_The mask was even uglier than the last three Dante had given her, but, at least, there was not a chance in hell anyone would recognize her when she was wearing it. "Okay, how many of these costumes do you have?"_

"_Twelve…maybe twenty." Dante plunked it onto her head. He nodded, satisfied with the effect. This mask would scare a Scurr queen back to her nest. "Good-bye Mahtava. Hello…Kutisha."_

_Angie was convinced he had a list of ridiculous avatar names stashed wherever he kept these god-awful costumes. "Seriously, where do you get these names?" she asked as she adjusted the mask and wrapped one of the tattered jackets around her shoulders. She modeled the half-begun new avatar gear. "How do I look?"_

_He looked her up and down, a wicked grin spreading across his face. She knew that look; a tingle ran down her spine in response. Angie barely had time to pull off the mask before he pounced. _

When it didn't appear that Dante and Angie were going to come up for air any time soon, Wyatt finally raised his voice: "Guys, I'm begging you, please stop!"

They did, but Dante kept his arms around Angie's waist, in no hurry to let her go. She passed him the photo of Never Fail from the other timeline. Dante gave it a serious looksee and couldn't help but laugh at their doppelgangers. "Oh my God, we were nerds…"

"You're still a nerd," she told him.

Dante didn't deny it. "The QB was a gamer clan geek? You sure this was another timeline and not another planet, Wyatt?" he asked, returning the photo to its owner.

"Yeah, the other Dante thought that was funny, too," Wyatt said.

"What do you think? What's the verdict?" Dante was watching Wyatt, but the questions were directed at Angie. The fact that Angie had taken off her mask in front of Wyatt was answer enough, but Dante still wanted to hear it from her.

"I think he's telling the truth," she said, adding: "Probably."

Wyatt was still trying to piece together the connection between Angie, her avatar alter-ego, and Dante's crew of psychopaths. "So, you and Dante? How did that happen-er, I mean, you've been working with the Grinders all along?" he asked Angie.

_ She was dreaming of purple-skinned warlocks, fire-breathing dragons, wormholes formed of pure light, all of it underscored by the gut-twisting feeling of bearing witness to the end of the world. In the dream, there was that computer geek telling her how an accident had formed a bridge between the online game and the real world, and the warlock was about to cross into the real world. He carried a gun-he called it a Blast-A-Ton-that he had 'pulled out' of the game. If she had not seen the monsters with her own eyes, Angie would not have believed it._

_ In the dream, she remembered following Wyatt, which was probably insane given that they had only his one weapon and it was two of them against an army of game mutants. He insisted they had to rescue Max Ross, the creator of 'Conqueror Of All Worlds', that Max was the only one who could rebuild the firewall between game and reality and save the world. They had tried. They had followed the monsters that abducted Max to the server station. As soon as the fight began, she quickly discovered that all her Krav Maga skills didn't compensate for the simple fact that bare knuckles and powerhouse kicks did very little against the computer-generated monstrosities. Still, Angie had given her all._

_ Her all had not been enough._

_ Maldark had overpowered them with almost no difficulty. As soon as Max opened the portal to the game realm, the warlock began the invasion of Earth. Every form of nightmare creature had poured from the vortex into the human world. For his next trick, Maldark had killed Max…nothing but a flick of his wrist and lightning flashed from his scepter to burn a hole through his creator's chest…just to ensure that Ross would never shut down the wormhole._

_ Wyatt had been next. He had tried to shut down the vortex himself. He'd barely taken two steps towards the computers when Maldark's Three-Toed Tenrecs had converged upon the teenager. In the melee, the boy and the monsters had stumbled through the gateway and into the game world. _

_ Angie might have gone after Wyatt, might have tried to rescue him from the computer realm, but she never had the chance. Maldark had turned his weapon against his own domain. A glowing ball of red fire materialized in his palm. As if he were blowing his land a goodbye kiss, Maldark had pitched the fire into the vortex. The gateway screamed like a living thing as all creatures left inside the computer program were incinerated. In the few seconds that elapsed as Angie watched in horror, the game world-at least, the parts of it not already transplanted into her world-was erased, Wyatt along with it._

_ Still, she'd tried. Wyatt had lost his weapon during his ill-fated scuffle with the Tenrecs. Figuring that she was dead no matter what, Angie had dove for the weapon and taken her one and only shot at Maldark._

_ The Blast-A-Ton had shot out a freaking dog. In her dream, Angie still heard Maldark's mocking laughter at the sight of the pathetic canine. He'd turned it into a Fire-Breathing Dragon, which he left to destroy the girl and the server station. Angie's last memory was pointing the Blast-A-Ton at the back wall of the building and praying, trying to shoot her way out before the dragon burned her alive._

_ She woke to pain…an ache through her entire body, but particular agony on her left arm and the left side of her neck. There was weight across her body, only just this side of crushing her. Her legs were pinned, but she could move her arms. The slightest motion of her left arm caused fresh spasms of pain, but she bit her lip and continued to try to move. It was dark, but a shaft of light illuminated a small area around her so she could see that she was half-buried under the charred rubble of what had to be the server station. _

_ The light was purple. _

_ She was dazed and in pain, but her memory was full of images of monsters swarming from the game portal and her instincts screamed at her to get out of there and hide. So, Angie fought her way, inch by inch and hour by hour, until she was free of the rubble. _

_ That was her first glimpse at the destruction that Maldark had wrought over Daventry Hills and of the dome of energy that now cut the city off from the rest of the world. Barely anything of the city she knew remained, not even a pharmacy where she could buy ointment for the deep burns on her arm and neck. She figured out quickly that there was no place to hide from the monsters. They were everywhere. Of the human population, Angie saw not a single soul. She wondered if anyone else was alive._

_ She thought of her family. The night that Angie had followed Wyatt to the server station, her family had made plans to visit friends in the nearby town of Ridgecrest. She had made an excuse about a geometry test in order to stay home and help Wyatt. Her parents and brothers were safe on the outside of the energy cage that imprisoned her. Angie was grateful for that, but terrified for what was happening around her. _

_ She found no sign of the Blast-A-Ton weapon and figured it was either buried beneath the rubble. She dug for a while, but eventually gave up hope of finding the weapon. Angie retreated, deeper into the woods where fewer mutants seemed to tread and the monsters were somewhat easier to avoid. As the days passed without a sign of another human, fear gave way to resignation, and finally to rage. _

_ No help was coming, not while that dome was up, but Angie had to believe there were other human survivors in the city. Hiding in the woods would not help them, and it would not save her from Maldark. Even if the Army should blast its way through Maldark's energy barrier, they wouldn't have the first clue how to defeat the computer-born menace, much less the proper weapons._

_ She needed weapons, and she needed to take down that dome. Max had said some gamer geek crap about 'merging weapons in a sorcerer's flame'. Okay, she had to add 'find a sorcerer' to her shopping list._

_First and foremost, she needed a weapon to defend herself. And a disguise if she wanted to move among the mutant population. Medicine for the burns would be nice, for she was sure they were becoming infected. Food-other than the berries she had found in the forest—would be best of all._

_ She began to search._


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Again, really? See Chapter One._

**8**

"_If you make more noise, you'll wake the Scare Crows."_

"_Feh! I nearly have it now_…_hush!_"

_ Zaglis and Ziglis-Z&Z as their species of game mutant was known-also wanted food. It was beyond their control-the human/marsupial hybrid had two heads, two stomachs, and a metabolism that burned so that the creature was in a perpetual state of hunger. Naturally, when they picked the "V"-shaped flying weapon off a passing Gula Muncher, their first thought was how to use the Atomic Wedge for the purposes of gathering food for their endless appetite. _

_ Ganga fruit was irresistible, the most delectable of delicacies…and the hardest to obtain, as it grew at the top of trees three stories high, higher than a Z&Z could jump with its powerful legs, but not so high that an Atomic Wedge couldn't knock the fruit from the branches. So, with their new toy, the Z&Z bounded straight to the Ganga orchard that had appeared in a place the humans once called the 'strip mall'. _

_ Zigils only wished that Zaglis had better aim. The need for the fruit only marginally outpaced the need for expediency collecting it. Ziglis kept a wary eye on the trees around them. It would not do for the guardians of the orchard to find Z&Z stealing their crops._

"_Almost go it? It doesn't look like it from here," Ziglis scolded as the wedge arched wide of the branches, succeeding only in bringing down a few large leafs._

_Zaglis hissed. "From there? Two inches away? Hush and let me work!"_

"_Don't shush me, you one-eared clump!" Having control over the left-half of their shared body, Ziglis reached up with their left arm and pulled Zaglis's long, pointed ear. Both heads yelped at the shared, resultant pain._

_In return, Zaglis thrashed their long, kangaroo-tail and soundly thumped Ziglis' head. They both staggered, dazed by the blow. With mutual growls of rage, they tumbled into a ball of flying fists, fur, and teeth, the fruit forgotten in the tussle. _

_It was during their distraction that someone snatched the wedge from Zaglis' hand and pitched the weapon into the treetops. The Atomic Wedge sliced off a thick branch, heavy with Ganga fruit. Z&Z dove for the delicacy as soon as it hit the ground._

"_Mine!" Zaglis cried._

"_Not if I get it first!" Ziglis disagreed._

_Half-crazed with hunger, it wasn't until their bellies and mouths were full that it occurred to them to wonder who had cut down the branch to provide their dinner. When they turned their heads to greet the newcomer, the Z&Z nearly choked on their meal. They screamed in unison: "Human!"_

_Their shriek echoed across the grove, carrying to the guardians of the orchard. They were called the Scare Crows simply because it was their origin-a mutant half straw man and half crow, with beaks large and strong enough to bite a cement mixer in two. They knew only one thing: Protect their trees, protect their crops. When the piercing cry disturbed their slumber, they cared nothing whether it was a cry for help, a cry of fear, or of rage. They knew only that something had invaded their orchard. Whether it was of human or game origin was of no consequence. They took to the sky, the beat of their wings like thunder in the sky, seeking out the intruder. Whoever violated their domain would know their wrath._

_The Z&Z was-quite literally-beside itself in fright. Zaglis and Ziglis wrestled, each wanting to hide his head inside their only stomach pouch. They ended up smacking each other across the head and shoulder. When Angie tried to break up the squabble, they recoiled in terror at her touch._

_Angie hid a wince as they bumped against her burned arm when they shrank away from her. She sucked her breath through her teeth with a hiss, waiting out the pain. The damn thing was infected and she knew it. She hugged it against herself, protecting the injury from further jostling by the frightened avatar._

"_Please, don't hurt us! We won't tell anyone that we saw you human-" Ziglis promised, trying to turn their body so that Zaglis stood nearer to the girl._

_Zaglis immediately spun so that Ziglis was closer. "Except that we'll probably tell the Tenrecs, since they'll pay a big reward for humans-" In retaliation, Ziglis thumped Zaglis with their shared tail._

"_Wait! Have you seen other humans?" Angie asked._

_Zaglis glared at Ziglis. "I can't control the Truth Curse!"_

"_You could simply say nothing!"_

_Zaglis hadn't thought of that. "That might work…"_

_Angie tried again to get their attention. "Truth Curse?"_

"_Never tell a fib to gypsy…particularly if you've just picked her pocket," Zaglis cautioned._

"_Have you seen other humans in the city?" Angie asked again._

_Ziglis answered quickly, "No."_

_Zaglis added just as quickly, "Many."_

_Angie grabbed them by the loose skin of their neck. "Where can I find them?"_

_On this, both heads agreed: "We don't know!"_

_She supposed they had to be telling the truth, since both heads had the same answer. Angie tried not to be disappointed. They had seen other humans, that meant others had survived. There was every chance they were still alive. She held on to that hope. If they were alive, they needed a way to fight._

_She held up the Atomic wedge. "What about weapons? Game weapons like these? Can you get more?" _

_Ziglis' eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets for shock. "Impossible!"_

_Ever-helpful thanks to the curse, Zaglis supplied: "Maldark has all the weapons in his castle. Only the Tenrecs are armed…and the Grinders."_

_There was not one part of that sentence that Angie understood. She remembered from science that a Tenrec was something like a porcupine, but as for the rest… "What's a 'Grinder'?"_

_Some kind of supernaturally loud bird cry split the quiet of the glade…and many more answered. Angie covered her ears as the powerful din shook leafs from the trees and sent computer-generated forest creatures scurrying for safety. The Z&Z looked to the sky and whimpered. Zaglis successfully hid his head into their pouch this time. Ziglis pulled at him, trying to trade places._

_Angie glanced up in time to see dark shadows against the purple sky. Her fingers tightened around the V-shaped weapon. "Okay…forget the Grinders, what was _that_?"_

_The Z&Z shrieked in harmony: "Scare Crows! This is their orchard!"_

"_What's a Scare-?"_

_She got her answer before she'd finished the question when hands caught her beneath her arms and a giant mutant scarecrow lifted her into the air. Seeing this, the Z&Z ran away screaming, using their tail and feet to bat away the Scare Crows as the mutants swooped down at them with shrieks of anger._

"_The human ate your fruit! The human ate your fruit!" Ziglis tried to wave them off._

_Zaglis corrected, "No, we did, but we're very sorry for it!"_

_Hopping like a rabbit and moving even faster than a rabbit, they disappeared into the undergrowth and were gone._

_The Scare Crow lugging Angie banked low, smashing the girl against one of the trees. Angie shielded her head with her arms, squirming so her shoulder took the brunt of the hit. The Scare Crow lined her up with another tree, intent upon stunning the human before devouring her. She knew she couldn't survive too many impacts._

_Instinctively, she used the wedge to slice off its foot. _

_The bird man screamed in agony, but dropped her. The branches smacked her in the face as she fell, but slowed her so that she was able to tuck and roll and she landed, springing unsteadily back to her feet. _

_Two more crow men dove at her. She threw the wedge, hoping she knew what she was doing. The weapon arched gracefully, clipping their wings. They shrieked and feathers flew. When they tried to dodge the wedge's return arc, they collided with each other and fell from the sky._

_Angie ran in the same direction as Z&Z, using the trees as cover…until another crow flew beneath the limbs and came at her head on. She threw the wedge, but the trees blocked her shot. The weapon didn't return this time. She chased it, finding where it had half-buried itself in a tree trunk. _

_However, just as she pulled it out of the trunk, the pursuing Scare Crow scooped her up. Before she had a second to react, it slammed her into the trunk. The fight went out of her. Her vision swam, stars dancing before her eyes. Blackness threatened at the edge of consciousness._

_Groggy, she felt the Scare Crow lift her into the sky. Angie looked down, idly wondering if the fall would kill her before the impact with the earth._

_She saw other avatars move into the orchard below…only these monsters were riding floating skateboards, wore bandana-like masks over their faces, and dressed like they just stepped out of 'The Matrix'. They carried tube-shaped weapons and could almost pass for human if Angie didn't know they _weren't _human_. _They stared up at the Scare Crow and its prisoner like jackals waiting to steal a share of a lion's kill. _

_Her last lucid thought was that she was going to die and computer-generated vultures were already fighting over her remains._

_The Scare Crow dropped her, but she was almost unconscious anyway. She hoped she landed on a few of the masked monsters when she hit the ground. As the blackness finally overtook her, Angie saw one of the human-like avatars aim its stick weapon at her. There was a flash of light like the play of lightning. She felt a tingle like static through her body, and then nothingness…_

_She woke to voices, distorted and muffled. Her sluggish mind, pushing its way back to consciousness, had trouble making out the words. Angie's eyes slowly open. A blurry face stared down at her, and she tried to blink it into focus. A portly man was kneeling beside her, hovering with a look of concern etched into his features. _

_He was a game leak, she realized, dressed as if his corner of the game had been based in colonial times. He had a soft accent to match the attire. She saw the man's mouth moving-was he talking to her?-but it took all her concentration to kick-start her brain to focus on what he was saying._

_She realized the man was talking to someone else. Who else was there? she wondered, unable yet to get her aching head to turn so she could look around. Angie could tell she was in some kind of tunnel lit by flickering torches. The walls had a metallic sheen to them, or perhaps that was an illusion created by the poor lighting. It was damp, she was laying on something lumpy and uncomfortable, and…what the hell was that smell?_

"_It's a little rough, but the Chameleomole skin seems to have done the trick. None too soon, I'd say. Those burns were infected." Still detached, Angie watched as the strange man adjusted his spectacles to better examine her injured arm…_

…_or rather, the arm that had been injured. Dimly, she saw that there was now smooth flesh where the burns had been and the limb no longer ached. _

_Angie heard another voice answer: "It was a good idea, Guy."_

_She squinted at her miraculously healed arm. It had some strange artificial skin grafted there. The new flesh was human colored, but rough and distinctly inhuman to the touch. She let out a whimper of revulsion, alerting "Guy" that his patient had regained consciousness and was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes._

_Guy gave her a smile meant to be reassuring. "Well, you're awake. Splendid! Welcome to our humble home…you'll be safe, well, as safe as a human can be, at least."_

_Angie got her head to move. The uncomfortable lump underneath her was a pile of burned up mattresses. The mysterious tunnel resembled an earthworm tunnel…only it was the size of a subway tunnel. It hadn't been her imagination-the tunnel walls were coated with some sort of hardened goo that looked like metal but sparkled like diamonds. Painfully, she pulled her arm away from Guy and pushed herself up onto her elbows, as far as she could go before she had to wait out a wave of dizziness._

_Guy saw her studying the odd burrow. "These tunnels were dug by the Chameleomole's. This is the only place in the city that Maldark's magic and the Mesmer's psychic powers cannot find us-thanks to this." He knocked on the hard metal lining of the walls. "It's secreted by the Chameleomole when they move. Useful creatures-their skin has unique properties. It can restore damaged human skin, which is how I was able to heal your burns. You'll hardly know the wounds were there."_

_Angie wrinkled her nose, not wanting to be reminded there was whatsit-mole skin permanently grafted onto her body, whether it had saved her life or not._

_Gently, Guy helped Angie into a sitting position on the uneven mattresses. He produced a canteen and offered it to the girl, who greedily gulped down the water. "You'll have to stay here, but why would you want to leave, considering what's out there?"_

_The other one interjected, still addressing Guy: "Tell the others she didn't survive. We can't take a chance on the Mesmers putting a truth whammy on them." _

_Still woozy, Angie peered into the dimly lit cavern, searching for the other speaker. She thought she saw a human shape in the shadows a few feet away. With the flickering torches distorting the shadows, it was difficult to tell._

_Guy nodded to his unseen friend. "Indeed. Not everyone shares your special immunity to their powers."_

_Angie cleared her throat. "What…immunity…?"_

"_Mesmers are very logical creatures. They sometimes have difficulty asserting their will on creatures who are less logical," Guy answered._

"_What he means is they can't use their super-special mind control on crazy people like me," the other one translated. This time, Angie was certain she saw a human form move not far from them._

"_And I'm not…staying," Angie added. _

_She heard a snort from the person in the shadows. "Terrific. Glad I bothered saving your butt, then."_

Saved her_? She wracked her brain. The last thing she remembered was the Scare Crow dropping her and the group of avatars in the overcoats and masks running into the clearing. One of them had shot her with some kind of stick weapon. _

_Angie squinted, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She spied a familiar coat and stick. "You-you were at the orchard-I was falling—how—how did you save me-?"_

_Obligingly, he raised the stick weapon and fired it at her. Angie felt the familiar tingle in every nerve of her body. The next thing she knew, she was standing face-to-face with the boy in the shadows. He was definitely the dark-haired boy from the orchard (and, she noticed with a cringe, definitely the source of at least some of the odor in the tunnel). He had the same long, tattered coat and mask. She also noticed a small, rounded shard of metal in neck that made her wonder for a moment if he really was a game leak._

_Guy jumped to his feet, shouting at the boy: "_Dante_!"_

_Dante turned away from Angie to give Guy a look of innocence. "What? She asked."_

"_She is recovering from a concussion and infected burns! Don't zap her around like that! You could hurt her worse," the older man scolded. _

_Dante shook his head. "So? She's going to be monster chum as soon as she leaves here anyway." He gave Angie a wave over his shoulder. "Nice to meet you, whoever you were."_

"_Angie," she answered._

"_Yeah, whatever." Dante walked away from her, starting to head deeper into the tunnel._

_Guy apologized to the girl, "I beg your pardon, my lady. My friend is somewhat lacking in impulse control…and manners."_

_Angie stormed Dante, irked at his abrupt dismissal of her. "I thought you were trying to kill me-in the orchard."_

_Guy trotted along behind the teenagers. "After they ran away, the Z&Z alerted the Mesmers that there was a human in the field. The Mesmers sent for my friend to—oh, dear—dispatch you, to put it delicately. We were fortunate that Maldark armed us with Hail Razors. The taser sticks can be modified to non-lethal settings…in fact, we discovered that a bit of reprogramming turns the electrical stream into a-what did you call it, Dante?"_

"_Teleporter."_

"_Yes, a 'teleporter'. If you aren't aware of the modification, it's almost impossible to discern the lethal blast from the teleporter stream…which made it possible to fake your 'execution' and save you from that rather nasty plunge," Guy explained. To Dante, he added, "It was very quick-thinking."_

_Dante grinned at Guy, unable to resist bragging just a bit. "Who's got the skills?"_

_Angie was beginning to understand. It was a brilliant scam they were pulling on Maldark-fake the executions of humans with their Hail Razors and then hide the humans in the only place in the city where the warlock couldn't find them. Maybe she was being too quick to judge the scruffy boy and his odd guardian. "How many people have you rescued?"_

_Dante gave her a baffled look. "Just you, but I'm starting to have second thoughts-" Dante was an expert on spotting trouble, and this girl, with her non-stop questions and stubbornness, was going to be trouble._

_Sure enough, she exploded. "What?! No one…but, there were like ten of you in that orchard! Why haven't-what are you doing then-?"_

_Dante stopped so abruptly that she nearly plowed into him. "Where have you been for the last three weeks? You really don't know who we are?"_

_She studied the two of them for a few seconds. "He's a Leak," Angie said of Guy. She pursed her lips at Dante. "And you're…what? A displaced Keanu Reeves fanatic?"_

"_What?" He realized she was talking about the costume Maldark's magic had forced on him. Any time Dante changed clothes, whatever he was wearing transformed into this black ensemble. It did have a rather Matrix-like look. "I didn't pick the outfit-I mean, no…weren't you leaving?" he reminded her in exasperation._

_She wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. He tried walking away again, but she simply marched right after him. "You have the weapons and this tunnel. Do you know how many lives you could save? How many people you could hide down here?"_

"_Probably about none before Maldark kills me for double-crossing him," he answered. "I'm a Grinder. My job is to execute whoever Maldark tells me to, not rescue them."_

_With a small surge of horror, Angie understood the purpose of the metal thing embedded in his neck. "You've killed people?!" She didn't believe it. There was something about him, beneath the bluster and bravado, that told her he wasn't capable of it. Why else would he have bothered to find a way to modify his weapon to have non-lethal settings?_

"_Well, no…" the boy muttered. In fact, until that day, Dante had been playing a really incompetent henchman, just managing to let his targets slip through his fingers and returning to Maldark with every excuse he could think of for his failure. Maldark was getting seriously torked about his screw ups._

_She smirked at him. "I didn't think so. So, why don't you do something to help? I'm talking about saving the city…our city. Don't you care?"_

_Dante was suddenly nose-to-nose with her, anger in his eyes. "My city? My city locked me in a cage for something I didn't do. Guess how I survived Maldark's invasion? I was in juvy. I'm a bad guy! Why do you think he picked me to do his dirty work? So, no, I don't care about saving my city." This time, when he walked to the opposite side of the tunnel, the girl did not follow._

_Angie processed that. He meant to shock her, to scare her away, and she knew it. She wasn't going to let him get away with it. She shook her head in answer. "You were supposed to kill me in that orchard, but you saved my life. You're not a bad guy."_

"_If you only knew me well, you'd realize how well you don't know me."_

_She crossed her arms. For lack of a better strategy, she tried using logic on him. "You're can't hold off Maldark forever. He's going to figure out you're not a killer, and then what are you going to do? I could help you. We could fake a lot of executions, make Maldark happy, and save lives doing it."_

_Guy gently interjected, "You must admit, the lady's idea may be the answer you were hoping for."_

_Dante shot the avatar a look of irritation, mostly because the avatar was right._

_At least, the boy had stopped arguing for a few seconds. He was faltering, so she pressed: "What about your family? Do you care about them? I want to see my parents again. Don't you want your family back?"_

_The emotional appeal did not quite have the effect she'd hoped for. Angie saw Guy making 'shush' motions at her from behind Dante's back, but had no idea what she'd said that would panic the avatar…until Dante's face lost all expression. She imagined that the temperature in the tunnel actually dropped from the power of the frosty stare he gave her._

"_Yeah. I do," was all he said._

_Without another word, he turned and disappeared down the tunnel, leaving her standing there dumbly. _

"_Okay, I said something wrong, didn't I?" she asked._

_Guy disagreed. "Something right, I rather think."_

"_I don't need his help. I can do it on my own. I can put on a bandana and a trench coat and pretend to be a villain." Angie was discouraged, but still determined. She began to scrounge around the tunnel, scavenging the ragged coverings of the "mattress" she'd been sleeping on and finding the boomerang-weapon she'd taken from the Z&Z. It was a start._

_Guy watched her with a frown. "I believe you could…but, even if we can find where Maldark has taken your people, I cannot let you leave. Dante is correct. If the Mesmers or the Tenrecs learn that you're alive, they'll know that Dante deceived them…and if Maldark learns he's been betrayed, he will kill Dante and the other boys. I'm not going to allow that."_

_Angie raised an eyebrow. "You can't stop me from going."_

_To prove it, she attempted to set off in search of some sort of exit from the tunnels. Guy stepped in front of her, physically blocking her attempts to go around him. "Let me assure you, my lady—I can."_

_Something in his eyes and tone told her she'd better believe him. Frustrated, she sat back down on the mattress and glared up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be the enemy? Hate all humans, that kind of thing? Why are you helping him?"_

_Since she was obeying his instructions, the man's demeanor was kinder. "There are leaks who do not agree with the genocide of humanity. Maldark is our conqueror as well as yours…the conqueror of all worlds. Besides, I'm rather fond of these boys. They're like sons to me. I don't want anything to happen to them."_

"_Where is everyone? Dante's the first human I've talked to since the invasion...if we use the term 'human' loosely…"_

_Guy was genuinely sorry to have to tell the girl: "Dead. Enslaved. Hiding."_

_Angie had already guessed as much. At least 'enslaved' and 'hiding' meant alive. "And how did you end up hiding with the humans?"_

_Now, the leak actually chuckled. "It was a rather amusing happenstance. The boys were sent to—well, never mind what they were sent to do. Suffice that they led General Saast on a rather wild false pursuit in the Stenchwater Swamps. By the time they'd convinced him that the humans they were chasing had escaped, the boys had gotten themselves completely lost. I was out collecting frogs when I found them wandering in circles in the Red Glades. I'm sure they'd still be lost there if I hadn't led them back to the city…after they'd assisted me in gathering my frogs, of course." _

_Now, the humor left his tone and his smile faded. He had seen their implants-it upset and offended him greatly. In his concern for these children whom Maldark was torturing, Guy brought by some food supplies as a 'thank you for the help' gift. This became a regular thing until, eventually, Dante trusted him with the truth about their efforts to avoid becoming executioners for Maldark by playing the roles of the buffoonish hunters. "Of course, when I learned of their predicament, their intended place in Maldark's schemes, it was unthinkable to abandon them to that warlock's mistreatment. I do what I can to keep them alive."_

_She smiled at him. "You're a good guy, Guy."_

_He rolled his eyes, but still blushed slightly at the praise. _

"_I was there when Maldark destroyed the server station. He made Max Ross destroy the game. Is there any way to stop him now? To send him back?"_

_Guy sighed. "I wish I knew, my lady."_

"_We can start by pissing him off as often as possible…saving as many lives as we can." Dante's voice behind her startled Angie to her feet again. He had returned, carrying an armful of filthy, tattered clothing and masks with him. "But, you're going to need to play avatar if this plan of yours is going to work."_

_With that, he shoved the first of many avatar disguises that she would wear into her hands._

"Angie Prietto was executed in that orchard. She doesn't work with anyone. Mahtava does-or _did_…now I'm Kutisha." Angie finished her story.

Wyatt had been ashen-faced for most of the story-particularly when she delicately informed him how his counterpart had perished-but, at that last bit, Angie thought she saw him smirking. "Okay, what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Did you pick those names?"

Angie glared at Dante and pushed away from him. "I knew it! What do they mean? 'Pig fart'? 'Moose butt'? I'm going to kick your ass…"

Wyatt jumped in before she carried out her threats. "No, relax. They don't mean 'pig fart' or 'moose butt'. So, let's see if I've got this straight-you dress up like a renegade human, try to rescue human slaves, and then the Grinders show up and 'execute' everyone?"

"And we hide them down to the tunnels," Angie said.

Wyatt knew, "This was Angie's idea, right?"

Dante nodded. "Yeah, but it does play to my strengths-skateboarding, making awesome avatar costumes, video gaming…"

Angie added to the list. "….annoying people."

Wyatt grinned now, feeling his faith had been justified. "I knew there was no way you would work for Maldark in any timeline…can you get me into Maldark's palace?"

Before Dante could answer, Angie shoved Wyatt against the wall and put the Atomic Wedge to his neck. He protested, "Ow! Again? Really?!"

Angie warned him, "You aren't going near the castle. You aren't going to poke your nose out of these tunnels! You see that thing in Dante's neck? Maldark can use that to kill him the minute he even suspects Dante's tricking him. Once you're 'executed' you don't leave the tunnels. That's the rule if you want to live."

_That was definitely going to be a crimp in Wyatt's plans._ "Is there a way to remove that implant?"

"We tried," Dante said. From the looks he and Angie exchanged, Wyatt figured their attempt had ended badly. They didn't elaborate. "Magic put it there, magic's the only thing that can get it out. Maldark doesn't trust us off his leash."

"Maldark's going to find out what you're doing sooner or later…or the city's going to run out of food being cut off from the rest of the world by that force field. If I can get to that Doubleback, I can fix history. I can fix all of this," Wyatt promised.

"Not without my help, you can't," Dante said.

Wyatt fell silent. He was right.

Dante made the same face he did whenever he tried to do long division in his head. That meant he was at least giving Wyatt's words serious consideration. After a minute, he asked, "You said you met my mom in the other timeline? So-she was still alive?"

"Yes."

That was all Dante had to hear. "Okay."

"Okay?" Slowly, it dawned on Wyatt what his friend was saying. "Wait, 'okay' as in 'okay, you'll help me get into Maldark's castle'?"

"That's right."


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I don't own "Level Up". I'm just kicking the tires and taking it out for a drive…_

**9**

Angie let Wyatt go, but only because she was thinking of pinning Dante to the wall instead. "What?!"

Dante reminded her, "You said he was telling the truth. If he knows a way to stop Maldark-"

She cut him off. "I said '_probably'_! He is _probably_ telling the truth. I didn't say you should follow the idiot on a suicide mission two hours after you meet him…no offense, Waylon."

"It's Wyatt. That's fine."

"Maldark will kill you before you ever get a chance to use your 'superweapon', even if he can make one…" Angie barked at him. She stood toe-to-toe with him, ready to put him in a headlock if she had to until he came to his senses…which, in his case, could be a long wait.

Dante stood his ground, pretty used to arguing with her. "Wyatt's right-Maldark's going to kill us anyway."

"You didn't talk this way before!"

"What do you want me to say in front of them?" He gestured to the school above the tunnels, meaning the Grinders. "You want me to tell them we're completely poned one way or the other? I'm sure that won't end badly…" _Deacon would take over, he knew, and probably kill Dante. He had no illusions about that. Then, Maldark would really have the army of human bounty hunters that he wanted._

Wyatt had to confess, "I don't think I can make a superweapon anyway. You said Maldark destroyed the game once he escaped. That means I can't pull our game weapons out. No game weapons, no superweapon."

Angie gave Dante a triumphant look. "How do you plan to get past Maldark's Tenrecs to get your chronometer without a superweapon?"

He gave that some more thought, and then a smile that was pure evil spread across his lips. "I may have an idea..."

Wyatt leaned to whisper to Angie: "Every time he grins like that in my timeline, one of us ends up covered in slime, varmint vomit, or pie…"

"Not just in your timeline," she said.

Dante ignored them. "If I bring Maldark a big enough prize, he'll let me personally deliver it to his doorstep."

"Prize? You mean a prisoner? So, you want to bring me to Maldark?" Wyatt asked.

"Okay, don't take this personally, but you're not a big enough prize. Since Max Ross is dead and Mahtava is dead, besides yours truly there's only one other person who's that big a pain in Maldark's giant purple butt," Dante told him.

When Wyatt still didn't take the hint, Dante shoved the photo of Never Fail back into his hands.

Wyatt got it. "Lyle. And the Genesis Orb."

"We're getting the band back together."

The odd sorcerers in Sculpture Park had been unwilling to part with one their Thunder Poles… until Lyle had traded it for the mystical human artifact known as the Magic 8 Ball (which Kowalski had parted with only after much coercion and finally a bit of blackmail regarding his brief time as an Oboe player in the seventh grade). Leaving the newfound Cult of the Magic 8 Ball to their bizarre activities, Lyle had managed to escape back to the camp with his own prize.

He studied the Thunder Pole. It felt strangely familiar and powerful…but if he couldn't figure out how to make the damn thing work, it wasn't going to be useful as anything but a fancy walking stick. _Was he supposed to use Latin like in 'Harry Potter'_? _Did the game have its own commands_?

Just to see what would happen, Lyle laid out the few weapons they'd taken off Saast's army-a Hail Razor, a Nzappa Zap, and a Hunga Munga-and tried the spell Wyatt had taught him.

The backfire from the Thunder Pole emitted a deafening _boom_ and sent Lyle flying into the swamp water…and Lyle found it completely awesome. It had been a complete failure, for the weapons didn't so much as twitch, much less merge, but the Thunder Pole had at least responded to him. He really did feel like a game warrior in that microsecond.

The others in the camp were not so amused. Warning alarms sounded. The Fog Faeries reflexively took flight, trailing a protective cloud of sleeping gas in their wake. The Barbarians and the Gula Muncher converged on their fallen leader, searching for signs of his attacker. Natalie, Maggie, and the guys were right behind them, weapons in hand.

"What was that?" Natalie shouted over the noise.

Bob answered: "Alarm."

"It's all right! I was just trying something! Sorry!" Lyle waved them off. He climbed out of the water, dripping wet.

The warning alarms did not stop.

"Lyle, man, I don't think you did that. I think that's a perimeter breach," Reggie said.

Lyle listened. Reggie was right; it was definitely the alarm from the portable shield generator that was blaring.

He pointed to the Barbarians, ordering: "Guard the Genesis Orb!"

As the avatars retreated to the orb's hiding place, Lyle and the others moved to the edge of the swamp to investigate. They reached the portable shield and found a familiar, curly-haired geek standing on the other side of the energy wall.

"Help?" Wyatt had been calling for five minutes before there were any signs of movement in the forest beyond the shield. He waved as Lyle's company crept out of hiding. "There you are. I'm back. Sorry about all the ruckus, but you don't have a doorbell and it's hard to knock on a plasma shield…"

"_You_?" Lyle blinked in disbelief. Wyatt might have been dressed in the coat and mask of a Grinder, but Lyle recognized him at once. There was no way that the computer geek was standing there, hands in his pockets, casually as if he'd just dropped in to mooch dinner at a friend's house instead of having come back from the dead. "No way-I saw Onterro vaporize you. This is a trick."

"No trick. It's me, Lyle. Dante didn't kill me. I told you he wouldn't."

Lyle raised his Thunder Pole and made no move to lower the shield. He could at least use the point of the staff to stab the nerd if this was a set-up. "Then you joined the Grinders. That's the only way you're still alive."

Wyatt answered, "I didn't join the Grinders—"

"Bull," Lyle shot back. "What are you wearing then?" The kid had twitched, had almost turned to look over his shoulder, Lyle noticed. _He was just a god-awful liar_. _No one just walked out of the Grinders' headquarters and no one came back from being hit by a disintegrator ray._

"-but what I did do is get about fifty Tenrecs on my tail when I escaped from the Grinders. They're right behind me," Wyatt said. This time he did look over his shoulder.

Lyle wasn't impressed at all. "Sounds like you have a problem."

Desperation crept into Wyatt's voice. "Oh, come on! Listen, I know how to get to the Doubleback. I know how to get into the castle and fix the timeline…but I can't do it on this side of the shield. I can't do it without your help. _And I can't do it with a butt full of Tenrec quills_!"

"I still think he's a doppelganger," Reggie said.

"Oh, for crying out loud, how many times do I have to do this?" Wyatt found a sharp rock and cut hand to show blood, not computer code. "Lyle, we're friends in any timeline. You have to trust me. We can end the invasion the way we did before. Together. As a clan. You and me…"

All eyes turned to Lyle as he weighed Wyatt's plea against his own intuition. He mulled for a long time.

Then he shut down the shield.

When Wyatt didn't move, Lyle knew he had made a mistake.

Wyatt again looked over his shoulder. "…and them."

Without the distortion of the shield to affect his night vision, Lyle now could now see figures in overcoats and masks hiding behind the nerd. Onterro was one of them.

Speaking to both the Grinder and his new friend, Wyatt, Lyle snarled: "You sonuva-"

Wyatt said again, "Lyle, trust me."

Free to overrun the camp now that the shield is down, the Grinders erupted out of their hiding places, Hail Razors drawn. The Mesmer was not far behind, keeping its unending watch over the boys. Dante had kept the creature back while Wyatt spoke to Hugginson, not wanting to risk the monster seeing Wyatt's face. When the Grinders advanced, the Mesmer stepped forward, broadcasting the battle for Maldark to see.

"Make it look good, boys. And Kutisha," Dante ordered his team. With the Mesmer watching and listening, Dante and Wyatt couldn't exactly sit down and explain their plan for getting into Maldark's castle. It would have to be "shoot first, explain later". And, now that the element of surprise was wearing off, Hugginson and his crew weren't going to go down-or give up the Genesis Orb-without a hell of a fight.

They knew the plan. Grinders and fugitives clashed, the former having the upper hand with their Taser weapons. Lyle went straight at Dante, knocking aside Wyatt to get at the Grinder, his hands already closing into fists. "I have been waiting for this, Onterro!"

Dante flinched in anticipation. "Yep, this is going to hurt…"

Angie's smile was pure evil. "Make it look good."

Lyle slammed into Dante with a football tackle, not the tiniest bit hampered by his leg thanks to the force of his fury.

Wyatt side-stepped as Kowalski attacked, still hesitant about using the Hail Razors despite knowing it would do no harm.

The Gula Muncher was dangling the Grinders' other new recruit-Philbert-by one leg. Hanging upside down and being swung back and forth like a toy, Philbert couldn't get a good shot off at his attacker. The monster bared its teeth and drooled in anticipation of tasting human flesh again. Philbert shrieked for help. Under her mask, Angie rolled her eyes and used the Hail Razor to net the game leak. Angie flipped Natalie easily when the girl charged at her in reaction to the 'loss' of the Gula.

Deacon and Rat weren't worried about a show for Maldark. They netted Kowalski before he could so much as toss a pebble at them. Hovering overhead, the Fog Faeries beat their wings, raining down a mist so thick that the Grinders' masks could not entirely filter it. Rat felt light-headed and his vision blurred before he slipped into unconsciousness. Deke calmly hurled his Hail Razor at the flying avatars, easily knocking one out of the sky. The Faerie plunged into the swamp. Its companion let out a cry like the chiming of tiny bells and dove to the rescue. When the twin Faeries emerged from the water, Deke captured them both with the stick weapon.

Dante was busy with the urgent need to pry Lyle's fingers from his throat so he could breathe. He rasped out: "I should warn you, I have a low threshold for pain and I scream like a gir-_ow_!"

Wyatt pulled Lyle off Dante, just to help make the fight convincing, but Lyle quickly broke his grip and lunged at Dante again.

"Yep, that looks convincing. And painful. Keep him busy, buddy," Wyatt encouraged. Dante choked out something unintelligible in response.

Angie grabbed Wyatt's arm. "You know where they're hiding the Genesis Orb?"

"If they haven't moved it," he confirmed.

Wyatt led the way to the camp. They were charged by Bob and a horde of Barbarians. Angie made short work of capturing them, not needing to put on a performance when the Mesmer was out of sight back with Dante and Lyle. They kept the bandanas pressed over their mouths against the lingering layer of the Faeries' vapors.

The first things they found were some of the stray weapons that the camp had collected. Wyatt saw something that gave him a spark of hope. "Hello…"

Angie heard and paused to look at him. Wyatt was holding up a staff with some fancy stones inset at its point. "What is that?"

"This is just what we needed." He was doubly pleased to find the weapon-it meant that Lyle believed his story about the other timeline enough to hunt up a Thunder Pole.

"We need the _orb_, doofus."

"Yeah, yeah, it's here." Wyatt climbed the tower of cars to Lyle's private area of the camp. He pulled the bag with the Genesis Orb out of the back seat of the car at the top and dropped it to Angie. While he climbed down, she checked inside the sack to confirm its contents.

The minute his feet hit the ground, he found himself with her Atomic Wedge pointed at his jugular. He stared at her in confusion. "Ang-?"

"Tell me what 'Mahtava' and 'Kutisha' mean," she demanded.

Extremely relieved, Wyatt grinned at her, but would do no such thing.

Lyle was still trying to strangle Dante when Angie and Wyatt returned to the melee. Angie reached into her pocket and carefully pulled out a Tenrec quill. In two steps, she reached Dante's side and jabbed the needle into his attacker's arm. They had the Genesis Orb; there was no more need for the show.

Lyle's eyes rolled up and he slumped, unconscious, landing right on top of Dante. Dante tried to shove the larger teenager off, but the guy was pure muscle and deadweight at the moment. "Little help…he's heavier than he looks."

Wyatt stared at Angie in shock. "What did you do?!"

"Relax. The black quills aren't toxic. It's the purple quills that you want to avoid. This will just put him to sleep for a while." She rolled Lyle off Dante.

Gasping air into his burning lungs, Dante fumbled for the Hail Razor he had dropped and zapped Lyle. The Grinders were collecting the rest of the camp. Dante glanced at the Mesmer. The robot ceased its broadcast and retreated.

Wyatt waited until Maldark's spy-bot was gone before offering Dante a hand up. "It's a bad time to ask, but I sure hope you know what you're doing."

Lyle was having nightmares about the day of Maldark's invasion. In the dream, he saw the blades of Maldark's fingers dig into his father's throat and the splash of red blood against his skin. He tried to run to his father, but his leg gave out beneath him and he fell to the ground. He was only twenty feet from his father, but laid there powerless to intervene as his dad's life drained away while Maldark's scornful laughter mocked the teenager. Lyle tried to scream, but no sound came from his throat.

Waking to the sight of Wyatt, some girl dressed up like a game leak (Angie, Lyle remembered her from the cell phone pictures), and Dante Onterro staring down at him was not much of an improvement. Lyle discovered that he was lying on the ground, only a thin blanket between him and the earth, someplace damp and dark and foul-smelling. The memory of Wyatt leading the Grinders to the campsite returned in a rush.

Lyle's first reaction is to lunge at Dante, reaching for the little weasel's throat. Wyatt and Angie caught him by the arms and held him back.

"We really need you to _not_ kill Dante," Wyatt asked.

"I'm not blaming you, Wyatt. You don't get it-this weasel used you to catch me. I warned you. He's been after me since he ended up on Maldark's chain!" Lyle snapped, still trying to get at the Grinder's leader. He had no real wish to hurt the geek or the girl, but Lyle was perfectly willing to knock them on their butts if that would get them off him.

Angie raised her eyebrow. "Somebody thinks well of himself."

Dante stayed out of reach, still having bruises from Hugginson trying to kill him the night before. "Dude, believe me, the _last_ thing I wanted to do was catch you. If I wanted to, I could've done it a long time ago. Noisy flowers and faerie farts wouldn't have scared me off."

"Catching me keeps Maldark off your back, keeps you in your little palace…" Lyle finally sat still long enough to glance at his surroundings. It looked like a giant Chameleomole tunnel. "…where the hell are we?"

"No, Angie disguising herself as renegade avatars for me to hunt down and execute keeps Maldark off my back," Dante explained. "Catching you means Maldark doesn't need me anymore, which means after he kills you, he kills me."

Lyle fell still, staring at the Grinder. The weasel had a point.

Wyatt slowly loosened his hold on Lyle, not fully backing off until he was sure Lyle was calming down, or at least paying attention. Angie took her cues from Wyatt, but palmed another of the black Tenrec quills just in case Lyle went after Dante again.

"Like I said, we need your help," Wyatt said.

"I'm not helping _him. _He's still a traitor. Hoarding food, fragging my camp…"

Dante retorted, "Hey, your pet Gula Muncher chewed on my arm like it was a chicken wing. Do you hear me holding a grudge?" He rolled up the sleeve of his coat to display a patch of Chameleomole skin that filled in where a few inches of his bicep had once been.

Lyle stood, refusing help when Wyatt offered him a hand. "Where are my friends?!" he demanded.

They had been expecting that question. Wyatt and Angie stepped aside, making room for Lyle to follow as Dante led the way deeper into the tunnels. It was not far to the bend that opened into the large central cavern and the buzz of activity there. Lyle froze, stunned at the sight of the mammoth cave and the couple of hundred people and avatars encamped there.

His people stood out from the crowd, standing there with the same dazed and confused expressions as Lyle. Reggie and Kowalski caught his eye, nodding in greeting despite their dumbfounded stares. They looked as astounded as he felt. Natalie and Bob were being handed food by a heavy-set game leak gentleman with glasses and a kind smile. A little farther back, Mike was being crushed in a bear hug by his mother and little brother. Philbert and Gus were there-_they were alive_! Lyle marveled- tossing a battered old handball back and forth. He'd thought they'd died the night of the invasion…

In fact, almost every person in that room were men and women whom the Grinders had supposedly 'executed' over the past few months. He'd seen their faces on the Wanted boards and in Maldark's daily broadcasts.

"Start talking," Lyle said quietly.

"Don't you get it? What's the first rule of 'Conqueror Of All Worlds'?"

They may have only played once or twice, but Lyle and Dante knew the answer. It was Lyle who said it aloud: "You can't defeat Maldark on your own."

Wyatt fell in beside him, gesturing to the cavern and its refugees. "Look out there. You and Dante and Angie have been working together all along, you just didn't know it. What you guys did is amazing…all these people, they're alive because of you." He directed that praise at Dante and Angie, who stood a short distance behind Lyle and Wyatt. "And Lyle, if it wasn't for you stealing that Genesis Orb and keeping it hidden, Maldark would have conquered the whole planet by now. And you guys did that all on your own. Imagine what we can do together. We're a clan in any timeline-we can bring Maldark down in any universe."

Lyle eventually nodded. "Okay, so, why didn't you guys just ask for my help? Why'd you have to wreck my whole camp?"

Wyatt was the first to answer: "First off, you _never _would have agreed to talk to Dante."

Angie continued: "Second, we had to put on a convincing show catching you or Maldark wouldn't have believed it."

Dante had to add: "And the camp was a wreck before we got there. I'm an expert on wrecks."

"All right, all right! Forget I asked." Lyle made a rude gesture at the annoying Grinder. "What do you want me to do?"

"Like I told you, the only way to stop Maldark is to use the chronometer to keep those Doublebacks from screwing with the past-breaking your knee, framing Dante…" Wyatt said.

"Is that the chronometer you said is busted?" Lyle wanted to know.

The geek's ears blushed red. "That's why we have to get a new one. We figured we can make trade for the chronometer if we have something Maldark wants badly enough."

"Like me and the orb?" Lyle had to admit the plan made sense…well, as much sense as alternate timelines and living breathing computer game characters invading the real world.

Wyatt confirmed. "Yeah, you and the Genesis Orb."

"That's your big plan?"

Dante put one arm on Lyle's shoulder, heedless of the glare the larger teenager gave him in return. "There is just one more thing we were hoping you could help with…"

The next attempt to forge the superweapon didn't go much better than Lyle's first efforts.

He'd conjured the fire perfectly, repeating the spell the other Lyle had used in the alternate timeline; Wyatt had tossed in Angie's Atomic Wedge, Dante's Hail Razor, and his own Rubber/Glue gun.

The fire spit the weapons out.

"That's working well," Angie commented.

Wyatt scratched his head. "I don't know…maybe I remembered the spell wrong. Gaming experience enhances the weapons. Maybe these weapons have been used to knock out Tenrecs and teleport humans…they haven't barded enough leaks to form a superweapon." He returned Angie and Dante's weapons. "Lyle were a level sixty-eight sorcerer…maybe since he isn't now, the spell won't work. At least we tried."

Angie already had a bad feeling about the whole plot, but now she felt like she was about to strap herself to rocket pointed at a brick wall. "You got a Plan B, computer buddy?"

Lyle said flat-out, "I'm not taking the Genesis Orb to Maldark. If he gets it, he conquers the rest of the planet...after he executes my dad. I only agreed to this because you said we'd save him."

Angie nodded. "And my family is outside the dome. If Maldark breaks through that barrier-"

Wyatt cut them off. "If our plan works, it won't matter. As soon as I go through the time vortex and stop the Doubleback, the effect here should be instantaneous. Like none of this ever happened."

"It matters if we're risking our lives and our families on 'ifs'-_if_ your plan works,_ if_ we get the chronometer. Once we're inside the castle, how do you plan on capturing the Doubleback with Maldark and all his goons standing right there?"

Wyatt was losing Lyle and Angie rapidly, and he knew it. He hefted the Rubber/Glue gun. "You all create a diversion and I use this to get the chronometer off the Doubleback…"

Dante's only reaction so far had been a small frown when Lyle had mentioned his father. Now he spoke up, "Wyatt, man, they're right. I mean, it was a good idea, but we can't risk the Genesis Orb if we don't have a sure way to kill Maldark." When Wyatt gave him a wounded glare, Dante hurriedly said, "If there's no superweapon, there's no reason for Angie and Lyle to be there. If they come with us and we mess this up, they lose their families. I'll create the diversion-me and the Grinders."

He'd already talked to the Grinders about the attack on the castle. Rat and Jonas had agreed to go without batting an eye. Deacon had balked, so he was currently cooling his heels inside Rat's Hail Razor so that he didn't warn the Mesmers or Maldark. Dante's family was already gone, and it wasn't much different for the rest of his Grinders. He figured they had the least to lose if this thing went downhill.

Maldark was going to kill them either way now.

"Maldark's not going to let us in the door if he doesn't see Lyle and the orb," Wyatt argued.

"We weren't planning to show Maldark the Genesis Orb until we got the chronometer anyway. Nothing's changed. We just tell him Lyle's locked in here." Dante held up his Hail Razor.

"Wait a second, I didn't say I was out-" Lyle said.

Angie frowned deeply at Dante. "As soon as you create a diversion, Maldark activates that implant."

Dante didn't need to be reminded. "There is that."

"Don't freaking joke about this!" she snapped.

"I'm not joking. I want that Doubleback!" He hadn't meant to yell. For one thing, it only made Angie madder.

She shouted right back. "Enough to die trying to get it?"

"_My mom died, Angie_! She died driving home from visiting me in that freaking jail where I never would have been if that Doubleback hadn't screwed with us! If I can change that, I have to try!"

"And I want to help you. You know that. But, come up with a plan that isn't a suicide run!"

She'd almost forgotten that Wyatt and Lyle were standing there, until Wyatt and Lyle discreetly moved back in case Angie started throwing kicks or punches. In fact, the shouting had drawn the attention of most of the people nearby in the cavern. Some were polite about trying not to stare. Philbert, Gus, Kowalski, and a few others weren't bothering to hide their interest in the spat.

Blushing red, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Dante muttered a curse under his breath. He didn't dare go after her until she calmed down…he'd learned that the hard way. He didn't understand the 180 she was doing-this was their first chance to take down Maldark, maybe their only chance. Wasn't that what they'd been fighting for since the day they started sneaking slaves out from under Maldark's ugly nose?

When the crowd eventually went back about their own business, Wyatt admitted. "She's not wrong."

"She never is-"

Whatever Dante had been about to say, he finished with a strangled grunt of pain and suddenly fell back against the tunnel wall. Dante clamped his hand over the implant in his neck as the device sent a warning pulse of energy coursing through him.

Wyatt reached a hand toward his shoulder when his friend stumbled. "Dante? You okay?"

Dante staggered for the ladder to the overhead hatch, one hand still over the implant like that would somehow prevent Maldark's intrusion into his mind. With one hand, he climbed the ladder as quickly as he could without falling.

"Maldark-he's looking for me." Wyatt and Lyle started to follow him, but Dante waved them back, motioning for them to stay put.

It was Lyle who nodded in answer and dragged Wyatt deeper into the cavern, out of sight in case Dante didn't get away in time.

The kindly game leak with the glasses approached Lyle and Wyatt with a tray of food. Three of Dante's Grinders followed him, staring suspiciously at Hugginson. Seeing this, Reggie, Kowalski, and Mike approached, keeping a watchful eye on the other boys.

The smell of real, honest-to-God food after months of living on the creatures Bob hunted made Lyle's stomach rumble. Still, he glanced warily from Guy to the boys standing behind him.

"Please, gentlemen, you'll need your strength if you intend to confront Maldark," Guy said, handing over the entire platter. They offered thanks around mouthfuls of food.

"If I may, Mr. Hugginson, I understand that your game avatar was a wizard. I noticed your weapon and, respectfully, that you're somewhat lacking in experience with it." Guy nodded to the Thunder Pole Lyle hadn't realized he was still holding.

The Grinder with the long, curly hair and the ice blue eyes explained: "What he means is you screwed up the spell and we don't have a weapon."

Lyle dropped the food back onto the tray. "If you think you-"

A smaller Grinder boy stepped between his friend and Lyle. "I have something else that may help you. The Z&Z scavenged it when Maldark destroyed the libraries." Timidly, he offered a book that looked as if it had been burned, dropped in a puddle of slime, trampled by elephants, and then rolled in mud. The print was smeared and pages were missing.

"We've been hiding it from Maldark since then. Young Jonas used it to modify our Taser weapons…it may have information about your weapon as well." Guy patted the shoulder of the boy who had given Lyle the book.

When Lyle saw the cover, he let out a breath that Wyatt thought sounded like a "huzzah".

_The Weapons of Conqueror Of All Worlds: The Expanded Guide._

Dante had barely climbed up and out of the tunnels to collapse onto the floor of the gym before the Mesmer found him and Maldark's voice echoed in his ears. Dante hoped the warlock didn't seem him shut the hatch.

The wizard's hologram appeared, glaring at the boy for keeping him waiting. As punishment, Maldark raised the ring and sent another jolt of pain into Dante.

"So, my worthless little pigs finally dug up a truffle, did they?" Maldark said in greeting.

Dante clenched his jaw, riding out the last twinges of pain with determination not to wince while the leak was watching him. He pushed himself into a seated position, using the wall for support, and managed a shaky smirk, "T-Told you we'd do it."

Maldark arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Hmf. And my Genesis Orb?"

"Yeah, we got it, too."

That placated Maldark enough that the warlock lowered his hand, setting aside the trigger to the implant. "Excellent. Turn Hugginson and the orb over to the Mesmer, and I may delay extinguishing your worthless life."

At the silent summons of their master, two more Mesmers appeared in the doorway to the gym. Dante slid over a bit, stretching his legs to cover the trapdoor. Steeling himself for the repercussions, he frowned at the image of Maldark and refused. "No."

"Then the Mesmers will take him and I'll have no further use for you-" Maldark again raised the trigger, more than ready to rid himself of the bothersome human child.

Dante talked fast. "Fine, then. I already hid Hugginson and the orb. You think I'm that stupid? Good luck finding them without me." He glanced sidelong at the Mesmers. "Go ahead. Try your mind tricks on me, butt-munch."

A momentary glitch across the facial screen was the only indication that the avatar made the attempt. This Mesmer was well aware of its limitations against this particular human.

The threat gave Maldark pause. At his master's unseen and unheard signal, the Mesmer retreated from the gym, leaving Dante alone. Maldark eyes were black with simmering fury, but he spoke slowly and his tone was ice. "What do you want then, you useless waste?"

Dante took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._ "I want to make a trade."

"I'm listening," the warlock replied.

"I want a Doubleback."

Maldark could not disguise his surprise. If the human knew about the existence of the Doublebacks, it was logical to assume he knew their abilities and had a specific purpose in mind for it. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "To use for my defeat? Planning to alter the past were you? Do _you_ believe _I_ am a fool, boy?"

Dante shrugged. "Ugly. _Way_ too high strung. Bad dresser. Completely lacking in humor. But, no, you're not a fool, and I'm not stupid enough to cross you, Maldark. You can control the Doubleback. Send it back to save my mom from that car crash. I can tell you the date. Save her and you can have Hugginson, the orb, and the whole damn planet for all I care."

Maldark relented. The boy was correct…he could not retrieve Hugginson or the Genesis Orb. His magic could not detect where the bothersome brat had hidden them. This was merely the final delay in Maldark's plans. This filthy, insolent boy would die…and perhaps Maldark would send the Doubleback to do the child's bidding and bring his wretched mother there for execution as well.

"Agreed. Bring them to my citadel at dawn."

The hologram shut down and the too-familiar burn of the implant slowly abated. The Mesmer left the teenager there on the floor.

Gasping, Dante leaned against the wall. He was sick of the whole damn game, trying to keep one step ahead of Maldark. He was almost glad it would be over soon.

"You think he's even going to try to do that?"

Angie stepped out from behind the half-broken bleachers. He couldn't see her face in the darkened room, but her shoulders were still squared, indicating she was still mad despite her gentler tone.

He didn't have the energy to get up at the moment. She could yell at him just a well if he was sitting as standing. "No, but he'll bring a Doubleback to the citadel for show...just to lure in the stupid, orphaned Grinder boy. You want to tell me what all that was about?"

Dante knew it wasn't cold feet. Angie was afraid of few things, and Maldark wasn't one of those things. She'd walk right up and punch the warlock in the face and then scold him if she broke a nail doing it.

"You piss me off when you do stupid things." _Like listening to morons who claim to be time travelers or storm Maldark's castle without a superweapon._ Angie crossed the room, but stopped a few feet away from him.

"That explains why you're mad all the time," he teased.

"Just figured that out, did you?" She gave him a look, but her manner was slightly less homicidal now. He took a chance and patted the empty space next to him. A few seconds passed in silence before Angie accepted the invitation and sat down beside him. He put his arm around her shoulder. She curled up against his side, wrapped her arm around his waist, and breathed in his god-awful, comforting smell.

"Sorry I yelled," he said.

"Don't be nice. I'm still mad at you."

"I know."

Despite her words, Angie really didn't want to spend their last night fighting and being mad at him. She was more angry with herself than with him.

And a little mad at their time-traveling friend.

Freaking Wyatt Black had to give her that one, brief moment of hope talking about timelines where they had defeated Maldark and prevented his conquest of their world.

Freaking Wyatt had to crush her hope to pieces almost as quickly.

Angie had seen his reaction when Dante had kissed her and every time the two of them had touched. Wyatt had been shocked at first. After that, there had been something in his eyes she had first thought was revulsion or jealousy (or both), especially when Wyatt had asked 'how did that happen'. Angie had eventually figured it out. It was sympathy. It was sadness. Wyatt felt sorry for them.

He hadn't been surprised to find Angie and Dante, which meant that they were alive in his timeline. He knew the kinds of details about them only a friend would know. If they were both Wyatt's friend, it was likely Angie and Dante knew each other in the 'real' timeline. They were both alive, they were a clan along with Wyatt and Lyle, and they were friends.

But Wyatt hadn't been prepared for the sight of Dante and Angie together. Which meant, in his world…

_How did she really think all this was going to end_? That they'd somehow defeat Maldark, she'd have the big joyous reunion with her family, and she and Dante would live happily ever after? Between the two of them, they've almost been killed about a dozen times in the past few months. Every near death experience, every time Angie had been fed up with the loneliness of the tunnels and went to spend time with the only human who knew she was alive, every time Dante had brought supplies down to the tunnels and ended up hanging around for hours afterwards, had only strengthened the bond between them.

The second time Angie got a concussion (courtesy of a horrendously botched rescue of slaves at the mines) was the first night she'd spent in his room instead of her lonely little corner of the Chameleomole tunnel/sanctuary. Dante had sat up with her doing the hourly wake-up checks despite multiple death threats from the groggy girl.

After the Gula Muncher had taken a chunk out of Dante's arm when the Grinders strayed too near the Stenchwater Swamps, Angie became his permanent roommate (despite the risks of Mesmers walking in at any time and catching her).

They'd become close, maybe the only person the other really trusted in this messed up reality, but they were never going to be a happy ending. They'd been making the most of their time together until Maldark finally killed one or (more likely) both of them. She shouldn't have let herself get close to anyone, especially not Dante, not in this twisted world. Saving her family, saving the world, and whatever else they'd been fighting for all these months, was always going to come at a price.

"I liked it better when you weren't all noble and heroic and selfless," she complained.

Dante was inclined to agree. "It was a lot better for my health, wasn't it?"

"I said don't make jokes." Angie reached up and swatted him on the head. "You don't have to do this."

"It's kind of too late to back out now."

Angie fumed. She hated it when Dante was right."You know you aren't going after Maldark without me."

She could feel his frown and his arm squeezed her shoulders tighter, pulling her closer. He wasn't as dumb as Maldark believed-whether they made it to the time portal or one of the warlock's goons got them, no one was coming back from this fight. It was one thing for him and the Grinders and even his gamer friends from another timeline to go out in a blaze of glory and all that bullshit, but the truth was, he didn't want Angie there. He didn't want her anywhere near Maldark.

Not liking the silence as it dragged out, Angie added, "Don't argue with me, Onterro."

He finally turned his head to look into her eyes. "I had an idea about the implants…" Angie didn't realize he'd lifted the Atomic Wedge from its clip on her belt until it was suddenly in his hand. "…course it depends if you think you can hit Maldark with this."

Angie glared, insulted even though she knew he was teasing her. "No problem. I'll just pretend I'm aiming at your head," she threatened.

Now Dante grinned. He bent his head and captured her lips with his. After a minute, Angie pulled back to remind him: "I'm still pissed at you." Despite that, she started tugging off his jacket and didn't stop him from reaching for the buttons on her shirt.

If anything, that only encouraged him. "Angry sex. Awesome."

Guy kept busy, trying to distract himself from worrying, but worry he did.

Every time Sir Dante and the Lady Angie set out to rescue more humans, the new arrival stretched their dwindling supplies of food and water that much thinner. Guy would not think of turning away the poor, beaten down humans, but the more mouths there were to feed and the more bodies to cloth, the harder it became for Guy to track down necessities for them, even with the help of the larcenous Z&Z.

But, the care and feeding of their human refugees was not the source of Guy's concerns that night. He was scared for his boys and even for Hugginson's men who would accompany them into the fray against Maldark in the morning. This would all end tomorrow, but that would be no relief to Guy if it ended with their deaths…

Preoccupied, he was unprepared when he rounded a corner of the school hallway and found himself staring a Mesmer in its hypnotic face. The beast projected the image of its vile creator. Maldark sneered at the transfixed little game leak.

"I have questions about the intensions of your human friends, peasant," Maldark said.


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: Still don't own "Level Up". _

**10**

At dawn, Maldark himself addressed his city and its captive population, the Mesmers projecting his image—large as a skyscraper, for all to see-onto the energy dome overhead. Such spectacle was unnecessary, for every monster in the city had crammed into taverns and shops to watch the broadcast. Others had gathered in the courtyards of Maldark's palace, for he had granted his people an audience for this special occasion. Triumph loved an audience. Those who weren't watching the broadcast courtesy of the Mesmers were gathered around the fallen high school to see the action in person.

Dante and the Grinders stood on the steps of their headquarters, surrounded by Mesmers and Tenrecs. Dante and Deacon flanked Lyle. They'd had to tie his hands to make a good show for the warlock, but that didn't mean Lyle had to be thrilled with the situation. Behind them, Wyatt had donned the mask and overcoat of a Grinder, half-fearing to be recognized from the Wanted boards. The monsters, however, were fully concentrating on Dante and his prisoner while their master ranted.

"Looks like every monster and mutant in the city turned out for this," Wyatt observed.

The Tenrecs hissed for silence during Maldark's speech.

"A glorious day dawns. The last of the human dissidents are in my hands," Maldark boasted. The image showed the Grinders guarding Lyle. "The Genesis Orb will be restored to us. Our empire has been stalled, confined to this limited city. But this was fortunate, for our delay has gifted us time to study these creatures, learn their weaknesses, and we stand ready now to expand our domain to the ends of the earth. The day will see the end of the human domination of this planet and the rise of the avatars…save for a few humans with the insight to recognize their place as our servants."

The image again showed the Grinders. Under the mask, Dante fumed, humiliated.

Lyle did not miss the conspicuous absence of his father during Maldark's speech.

Maldark beamed at his enslaved hunters with false, cloying pride. "Well done, well done indeed. Now is the time to step forward, our slaves, and receive the reward you've so rightfully earned."

"That's his way of saying we're dead," Lyle mumbled.

"No kidding," Dante answered.

The Tenrecs made way for their First One. Every human present tensed as Saast climbed the steps to stand in front of Dante. He still towered over the boy.

Saast gestured to the Grinders. "Surrender your weapons."

At a nod from Dante, the Grinders and Wyatt did so-they had been expecting this. Only Dante refused, clinging tight to his own Hail Razor when Saast reached for it. "This has the Genesis Orb inside. Maldark doesn't get this until I get my mom."

Saast's tail gave one thrash as he considered using it to knock the boy's head from his shoulders, as he'd longed to do since the day Dante escaped from the prison. The Tenrecs took a step towards the Grinders' leader, but Dante put his thumb over a red button on the stick.

"Try it and I teleport the orb right into the Lava Belchers' volcano," he warned.

"Do so, and I will kill you now," Saast warned.

Dante stared back at him, not blinking or twitching.

Saast grunted, and the Mesmers reluctantly backed away. Wyatt and Lyle relaxed…slightly. The First One waved for the humans to follow him. There would be ample time to kill the human whelp once Maldark had his Genesis Orb, the Timiga reasoned.

"This is it," Dante said. "Point of no return."

Wyatt couldn't resist a whispered, "Tulta Munille."

Lyle and Dante both frowned. "What?"

Saast, the monster guards, and the boys were swept up by teleport stream. When the beam faded, they stood before Maldark's castle. Wyatt barely recognized it as Max's former mansion. It looked vaguely like the hotel from '_Psycho'_ now. The assorted mutants and monsters that packed onto the castle grounds only made the place creepier.

Lyle studied the bizarre architecture and whispered to Dante: "And I thought _your_ place was Freak City..."

Saast led the procession into the warlock's fortress home. The humans were led past the mutant crowd, which tittered insults and jeers at them in all the different languages of the game. Lava Belchers spit balls of flame until a growl from a Tenrec cowed them into stopping. The hooded warlocks from Sculpture Park brandished Thunder Poles and shook gloved fists at the humans. Ziglis and Zaglis were regaling the crowd with stories of how they'd defended the Scare Crows' orchards from the filthy humans. A herd of Gula Munchers paced at the edge of the crowd, their large noses twitching, drooling at the hopes of being fed what was left of the humans when Maldark was done with them.

Wyatt guessed there were a couple hundred game leaks in the mansion. "Dante, were you counting on this many avatars?" he asked nervously.

He shrugged. "One dozen, one hundred, does it make any difference?"

"It does if they're standing between us and the Doubleback."

Dante grinned under the mask. "Do you always overthink everything, Wyatt?"

They were led to what had once been Max's lavish backyard. It was now a large dome, three-stories high with walls of glass. At the center of the main chamber was the towering shield generator, still stuck in its holding pattern without the Genesis Orb to fuel the expansion of the energy field. Standing on the platform with the generator was Maldark, gazing down on his soldiers, followers, and slaves. At the arrival of Saast and his prisoners, the warlock beat the air with a fist and the crowd cheered obediently.

Lyle saw his father standing a short distance behind Maldark on the platform, on display for his son's benefit obviously. Maynard Hugginson's face fell when he saw Lyle had truly been captured.

Wyatt and Dante scanned the faces of the mutants. The Doubleback was there, too, standing not far from Maldark. There was not a trace of a time vortex, neither was Dante's mother among the throng. He hadn't expected her to be.

"I feel like Harry Potter walking up to Voldemort at the end of Deathly Hallows," Lyle said.

"Can we use an analogy that doesn't make one of the three of us Hermoine Granger?" Wyatt asked.

Maldark finally thumped his staff, demanding silence from the crowd. He held out his hand to Dante. "At last. I'll have the Genesis Orb now, whelp."

Dante clutched the Hail Razor tightly. "Did you forget your promise, Blue Boy?"

Maldark fired his staff, and a tendril of energy yanked the weapon right out of Dante's hand. It flew to warlock, who easily snatched it from the air. "Did you forget your place, human?" he snapped. Forgetting the teenager, the warlock turned and addressed the human standing behind him. "Mr. Mayor, you may say goodbye to your troublesome progeny while you have the chance."

The Tenrec guards stepped aside, permitting the mayor to run from the platform and embrace his son. He'd seen Lyle only on Wanted boards in the months since the invasion. Maldark had told him nothing of Lyle, other than vows to kill him and take back the Genesis Orb, but Maynard Hugginson still heard rumors whispered by the servants in Maldark's palace. He knew his son had been a thorn in Maldark's side. He'd been both proud of his boy and terrified for Lyle's safety. He was no less terrified now that his son was here.

Wyatt was unabashedly misty-eyed at the scene. Dante elbowed him. "Don't cry."

"I won't," Wyatt lied.

His father nearly squeezed the breath out of him. Lyle wheezed out the words: "Dad, I'm sor-"

Maynard shook his head. "Don't. I'm proud of you. I'm proud of what you did. I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe."

"Just stick close, we aren't done yet."

Maldark sneered in contempt at the humans and their emotional display. He saw the way the Grinder boy watched the reunion, seeing past the boy's stoic façade to the sadness beneath. Maldark kneeled, smirking down at the teenager. "Family is such a vile concept-the construct of a species cursed with the weakness of emotions. See how it leads them to their doom. You could have had any reward for faithful service to me, yet you also want your pathetic _family."_

Dante smirked at the insult. "You could throw in a Ferrari, too, if that's less pathetic."

Maldark straightened. "As you see, boy, the price you've demanded to return what is rightfully mine has been paid." He indicated the waiting Doubleback. "Before I allow it to return your wretched kin to you, satisfy my curiosity-how did you know such a creature existed?"

Dante had been expecting anything except that question. "I…saw it on a cereal box," he said lamely.

Behind him, Wyatt groaned. "Really? That's the best you could come up with?"

"I'm under stress here!"

Maldark waved his hands. One of the half-destroyed game manuals from the Grinders' collection appeared in his hand. "Perhaps you read it in these forbidden texts?"

Dante was about to ask how the hell Maldark had found the book…until Saast snapped his fingers and the Tenrecs brought Guy from behind the platform. The game leak's hands were bound. A Mesmer followed him. Dante's eyes widened. "Guy?"

Reveling in the humans' diminishing bravado, Maldark continued: "Perhaps you heard about it from your new friend. _Revelare_!"

Another flash of lightning from the staff tore the mask off Wyatt's face. The crowd reacted with a mix of fearful squeals and brandishing weapons, remembering his face from the Wanted boards. Wyatt reflexively tried to duck his head. "Uh…okay…hi."

Maldark peered at him. "So, this is the boy out of time…in every way."

Wyatt was too surprised to notice the underlying threat in the words. "How did-?"

Guy bowed his head in shame. "My apologies, Sir Dante…the Mesmers caught me by surprise. I'm afraid Maldark knows about our friend, Mr. Black."

"It's okay, Guy," Dante said.

Lyle wasn't so sure. "Not _that_ okay. What else did you tell them?"

Maldark nodded. "Yes…I recall killing your counterpart the night I first conquered your world. He wasn't much of a challenge, either. The female was more of a challenge than you, boy. How pathetic that a universe exists where insignificant insects like you…" He included Dante and Lyle in the insult. "…could defeat me, _Never Fail_. I assure you, this is not that universe…as you're about to see."

Maldark raised Dante's Hail Razor, firing it to release the Genesis Orb.

Instead, Angie materialized out of the beam, clad in her new gear as 'Kutisha'. She held her Atomic Wedge in one hand. She wished she didn't need the mask so that the warlock could see her grin as she cried, "Tulta Munille, jackmunch!"

She threw the Atomic Wedge. It sliced off Maldark's hand-the hand that had the ring that controlled the implants in the Grinders' necks. The warlock screeched.

At the pre-arranged signal, the hooded Sculpture Sorcerers pulled back their hoods, revealing Reggie, Kowalski, Mike, Philbert, and Natalie. When the mystical bestowers of the Magic 8 Ball had asked, the sorcerers had handed over the disguises and the Thunder Poles willingly, in gratitude for the gift of the mystical black sphere.

Reggie tossed his Thunder Pole to Lyle. Lyle used the sharp point of the weapon to slice through his bonds.

His father stared, first at the sudden appearance of the fighters and then at the bizarre weapon. "You know what you're doing?" he asked.

Lyle grinned. "Like you taught me-plan, prepare, prevail."

Natalie used her Hail Razor to send the Rubber/Glue gun to Wyatt. He aimed the Rubber/Glue gun at Maldark, who was howling as he clutched the stump of his digital arm. The blob of glue snagged his severed hand and its ring and bounced it back to Wyatt.

Wyatt smiled at Guy. "You didn't tell the Mesmers everything, did you?" Maldark obviously hadn't known about Angie or the Sculpture Sorcerers.

Guy half bowed. "As I said, Mr. Black, the trick is not to lie but to choose which truths to tell them."

Mike and Kowalski used their Hail Razors to teleport more heavily armed fighters into the large chamber-more allies from Lyle's camps, the remaining Grinders, and volunteers from the mass of people from the tunnels. The new arrivals carried their own telesticks, which beamed in still more resistance fighters. In a matter of a minute, the number of armed humans in the chamber had increased exponentially. They began counterattacking the Tenrecs before the foot soldiers or Saast knew what was happening. The Gula Muncher pushed its way through the confused spectators and burped up a Hail Razor for Dante. The human accepted the mucus-coated weapon without so much as a blink.

Rat was the first of the Grinders to materialize, courtesy of Guy's Hail Razor. The human fired his own taser weapon, releasing a considerably upset Deacon from his overnight prison. The smaller teenager whirled. He was about to advance upon his captor, until he took notice of the battle going on around him. He noted the presence of Hugginson's outlaws and the swarm of avatars-both friendly and hostiles-and at the center of it, of course, was Onterro.

The larger boy shoved a Hail Razor at Deke, "We need your help."

"No shit." Deke snatched up the weapon and fragged a Lava Belcher that was preparing to douse them both in molten rock.

Dante would have been psyched that the plan was working, except that Angie was still on the platform, standing two feet away from an enraged Maldark. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Maldark raised his weapon. She lunged, kicking and punching with every Krav Maga move she knew. A Tenrec rushed to its master's defense, but Angie disintegrated it into computer code with a toss of the wedge weapon. In the instant that her attention shifted from him to the guard, Maldark swung his staff and knocked Angie off her feet.

"Angie!" Dante forgot the Doubleback and ran for the platform. He tried to use his teleporter to zap her away from Maldark, but she was moving too fast trying to dodge Maldark while still kicking the warlock's ass. Dante ran for the platform instead.

Maldark pointed his weapon at her again while Dante aimed the Hail Razor. He teleported Angie off the platform a split-second before a blast from Maldark's wand would have disintegrated her. She reappeared beside Dante at the foot of the makeshift stage. He caught her in a tackle, rolling both of them beneath the platform as the warlock took another shot at the pair of humans.

Wyatt tracked the Doubleback as the avatar tried to retreat from the sudden battle. He aimed the Rubber/Glue gun at the chronometer and squeezed the trigger-but Maldark waved his scepter and a shield deflected the blast.

"Really, really, _really_ not good." Wyatt gulped. He shouted to Lyle, Dante, Angie, and whoever was listening to him in the middle of the battle: "Get the chronometer no matter what happens!"

The Grinders and dissidents knew the plan. Guy and Bob the Barbarian had found broken pipes and boards to use as clubs and subdued as many avatars as they could. The Newporter was eager to repay the Mesmers for forcing him to betray his friends.

The Tenrecs surrounded the Grinders first. Deke and Rat searched for anything to use to shield themselves as the monsters fired their sharp needles. Not finding a trash can lid or anything else, the two boys pushed a Mesmer into the path of the quills. The creature tumbled, not only blocking the projectiles but also bowling over the porcupine mutants. The boys exchanged high-fives.

Wyatt zapped a Lava Belcher as it breathed a stream in Mike and Philbert's direction. The creature squealed as it reverted to coding. "I'm starting to feel like I'm back home," Wyatt grinned to himself.

The element of surprise had given the Grinders and the dissidents the upper hand. Saast moved to quell the uprising, but a large Barbarian knocked him momentarily senseless with a piece of broken table. Seething at his minion's continued incompetence, Maldark aimed his scepter at the stump of his computer-generated hand and recited an incantation. His hand grew back…and the control ring with it. Maldark activated the implants, and the Grinders, including Dante, screamed.

Around them, Deke, Rat, and the other Grinders fell, clutching at the metal shards in their necks as electricity coursed through their bodies. Wyatt and Lyle saw what was happening and froze. Pinned half-under the platform, Angie climbed to her knees and slid from under the shelter. She tried to get another shot at Maldark, but from this angle she couldn't even see him.

"Wyatt!" she screamed.

Wyatt shouted. "Lyle!"

"What do you want me to do?!" Lyle raised the Thunder Pole, but had not a clue what to try.

"_Anything_!" Wyatt answered.

Lyle took a breath, shutting the anguished screams out of his mind as he tried to recall his hurried studies from the night before. "_Permuto_!" he cried, pointing the weapon at Dante and hoping like hell he had gotten the spell right.

The Thunder Pole glowed. Seconds later, the implant vanished from Dante's neck-and re-planted itself in Maldark's throat. It was his turn to scream. Naturally, he muttered a spell and the implants disappeared.

The fallen Grinders now opened their eyes, feeling in wonder at the smooth skin where the devices of torture had been. Avatar allies and Lyle's friends helped them to their feet. No longer held back by the fear of the implants, the Grinders tore into the Tenrecs with renewed fury. Wyatt and Lyle saw Angie leaning over, saying something to Dante. A few moments later, he rolled onto his side and shakily pushed himself up.

The Mesmers were having but marginal success in subduing the crowd…and no effect at all on the Grinders as they counterattacked the Tenrecs. The tide of battle was shifting to the humans' favor. Worse, Maldark still did not have the Genesis Orb. They would converge upon the platform within minutes, and the warlock could not allow that. He cast a final spell and a wall of energy began to form between the platform and the combatants.

Lyle saw it happening. If the wall closed, his father, Dante, Angie, and the Doubleback would be trapped on the other side with Maldark and Saast. He pointed the Thunder Pole, "_Foramen_!"

A small hole, barely big enough for a human to pass through, formed in the wall. Lyle held the Thunder Pole in place, keeping up the litany as it held open the gap while Maldark fought just as hard on his side of the barrier to close it.

Reggie and Deacon shoved Wyatt towards the opening-if it closed before they got the Doubleback, it was game over. Epic Fail. "What are you waiting for?!" Reggie asked.

Wyatt made one last Hail Mary play with the Rubber/Glue gun. The blob of rubbery glue splashed against the Doubleback's metal torso. Seeing this, Saast spat a fang at the avatar. The chronometer ripped from the Doubleback's chest and instant before the fang impaled the creature. The game leak vanished, but the chronometer flew into Wyatt's grip.

Wyatt frantically started dialing the chronometer to the fateful September 30, 2011 date. The time vortex opened a few feet from him.

"Yes! Got it! Let's go!" he shouted to the others as he ran to the portal.

Lyle strained to keep the gap in the field. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dante and Angie start to move for the opening. Dante was waving for Lyle's father to follow, but Saast and the Tenrecs were already moving to intercept the trio. Maldark intensified the pressure and Lyle's bad knee almost buckled beneath him as he fought to stay in place. "I can't keep up the shield in place if I move. Go on!"

Amazed that Wyatt's plan was actually working, Dante and Angie broke from the cover of the platform and ran for the breach in the shield that Lyle was struggling to maintain. Tenrec quills, scepter blasts, and other hazards were flying past them as the warlock and his minions tried to block their escape.

"Come on!" Dante shouted to Mayor Hugginson, waving him to the opening. Lyle's father ran for the gap, but Saast and his Tenrecs stepped into his path. Dante and Angie took out the two Tenrecs with their weapons. Another was yanked off its feet as a shot from Wyatt's gun snaked through the aperture and coiled around the monster.

Wyatt held his ground at the mouth of the vortex, unwilling to leave without them. He urged them: "Come on!"

Dante and Angie raised their weapons again as Saast advanced. "Wyatt, go!" Dante shouted back.

Still, Wyatt hesitated.

Saast swung his massive arm and knocked both teenagers aside. The Timiga could not decide which of these three humans he wanted to destroy first: The filthy urchin who had humiliated him by supplanting him as Maldark's bounty hunter, the wretched girl who had fetched human slaves entrusted to Saast's keep (for, under the Mesmer's influence, Guy had also told them about 'Mahtava' and Angie's other avatars), or the father of the thief who had foiled their conquest by stealing away the Genesis Orb.

He turned his attention back to the mayor.

Maldark chose for him. Unable to do the honors himself as he grappled with Lyle, the warlock commanded his First One: "Kill the human mayor!"

Lyle shouted, powerless to help. "No!"

Maynard Hugginson saw the Timiga prepare to spit the fatal fangs. Caged in by the platform and the force field, there was nowhere to run. It would be worth dying if it bought his son the precious seconds he needed to stop Maldark or escape. He would die for that. Saast growled and Hugginson saw the razor-sharp fangs flying right at him. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain. At least if they hit his heart, his death would be instantaneous-

-the projectiles never hit him. He sensed someone stepping in the way. _Lyle, no…_his heart sank. His eyes flew open, expecting to see his son.

The Grinder kid, Dante, stood in front of the mayor. The Timiga's fangs had struck the boy in the chest. Maynard caught him as he fell.

Angie, Lyle, and Wyatt froze, shocked.

The humans who had been locked in combat with the avatars heard three simultaneous cries from the trio, loud and anguished, drowning out the sounds of the battle. All eyes turned towards the platform to see what had happened.

There was a moment of absolute stillness in the chamber.

Then the blasts from every weapon held by human hands or their avatar allies were suddenly directed only at Maldark and Saast. The gap in Maldark's shield was narrow, but enough that it afforded him no protection against the onslaught of several dozen weapons suddenly unleashed upon him. The blasts collapsed the platform out from under him, breaking his concentration so that the force field winked out. A blast of glue affixed him to the metal of his dais as it fell. Humans and monsters scattered clear of the collapsing dais. The warlock disappeared into the twisted heap of rubble. They knew better than to hope he was dead.

Saast now aimed for Angie.

Lyle's mouth curled into a scowl of pure rage. As Saast spat a fang at the girl, Lyle pointed his staff and snarled, "_Aversa pars_!"

Mid-flight, the fang reversed course and buried itself in the Timiga's neck. He disappeared in a shower of data codes, along with his pet Slimer, before he had time to utter a sound.

Wyatt abandoned the vortex and ran for Dante; Lyle was only a half-step behind. They reached him just as Maynard eased the boy to the floor, leaning Dante against him. Dropping to her knees beside them, Angie tore off her helmet to get a better look at the injury, and then wished she hadn't. She grabbed the ever-present rag from Dante's pocket, ripped it in half, and packed the pieces around the wounds, murmuring an apology when he grunted in pain at the pressure. Her vision blurred, but she wiped impatiently at her eyes.

The Mayor reached around and Dante's shoulders and put pressure on the bandages. Desperate to help and unable to do anything more, her hand seized his in a death grip. She was barely aware when Wyatt and Lyle crouched beside her, but she was surprised when Lyle grabbed Dante's other hand in an equally fierce hold. Wyatt didn't know where to touch Dante without hurting him more and settled for reaching past Angie and gingerly laying a hand on his friend's arm.

The Grinders closed around the vulnerable group, beating back the horde of monsters. Rat was ashen-faced, eyes bright with tears. Deke's mouth was set in a grim line.

Dante blinked, more than a little shocky. He saw the fangs and the blood and supposed he should be in pain, but he really couldn't feel his body at all. _That was bad_, he knew in an odd, detached way, _really bad. _ Darkness threatened at the edge of his consciousness. The only word that would form in his mind was, "Crap…"

Lyle fumbled for words, at a loss for words except to stammer, "Dante-why?"

Brown eyes blinked groggily up at Lyle. Slowly, Dante turned his head to look over his shoulder at Lyle's dad and stared back at Lyle. Shakily, he moved his hand, the hand Lyle was gripping, and lays it over Maynard's hand. Then, Dante weakly pulled his hand back, leaving Lyle's hand laying across his father's.

Lyle got it. All he could say was, "Thanks, man. Really. Thank you."

Angie jerked her chin at Lyle's Thunder Pole. "Can't you do something?!"

"I don't know what to do, Angie! I don't even know if this works on humans!" Eyes narrowing, he stood up and stared at the pile of rubble. "But I know it'll work on Maldark."

"Lyle, wait! There's no time for that!" A pair of Tenrecs broke the Grinders' defensive line. Quills missed Wyatt by a hair's breadth. He picked up Dante's Hail Razor and barded them into non-existence.

Wyatt was torn, not wanting to leave Dante while knowing the time portal would not stay open forever. If it closed, he did not know if he could re-open it now that the Doubleback was gone. He looked back down at Dante, feeling slightly sick at the sight of the blood-stained rags. _We can fix this…this should never have happened…we can make this never happen…there's time_, his mind raced desperately.

Feeling Wyatt's gaze, Dante opened his eyes. He saw the dilemma in his friend's gaze. He breathed out, "Go."

Lyle and Maynard tried to move Dante, but just the slight jostle made him groan in renewed agony. Maynard eased back down, still supporting the boy. There was no way they could get him to the vortex.

Dante whispered again. "Go."

They didn't move. If anything, Angie's grip tightened around his hand and Lyle became more resolved to stay. Dante weakly pulled his hands out of Angie's hold, _No good…no good…the portal…_ He turned his head to search for Wyatt again, gasping out: "Wyatt-"

Wyatt knew what Dante was asking. At his nod of answer, Dante sagged in relief.

"We have to go! That time vortex is going to close! There are two of those Doublebacks! I can't catch them by myself!" He barked at Lyle and Angie. They didn't move.

He put a hand on Angie's shoulder, and she whirled on him, looking fully capable of tearing him in half. Lyle only frowned, having an unpleasant déjà vu to the night of the invasion, when his friends dragged him off that football field, leaving his Dad in Maldark's hands. Unhappily, he knew what had to be done.

He glanced at his father. Maldark would kill whoever they left behind…

…unless they stopped the Doubleback. If they did, the effect here should be instantaneous, at least if all the good sci-fi t.v. shows were to be believed.

Maynard nodded. "Son, go. I'll stay with him." He took the Hail Razor from Wyatt.

"Guy!" Lyle waved to the game leak who hovered anxiously at the edge of their circle, wanting to help and reluctant to interfere. Guy slipped into the space that Lyle vacated. Dante's eyes had slid shut. Guy pressed his fingers to the boy's neck, checking the pulse there. It was obvious he didn't like what he found.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Guy said, "I'll take him home. Godspeed, Mr. Lyle, Mr. Black, Lady Angie." He was putting on a brave front for the sake of teenagers. They knew as well as he did that there was nothing they could do.

Except…

"Listen to me! We can't fix this if we don't get through that portal! Angie! Come on!" Wyatt risked pulling at her again.

Angie shook him off.

He would not force her. Their chances of succeeding were better if she was with them, but Wyatt would not force her to go. He and Lyle slipped away, running for the vortex while their friends covered their escape.

"Wait."

Angie's voice was soft, but it still carried to Wyatt and Lyle before they stepped into the portal. They glanced back at her.

Angie was not sure if it was calmness that settled over her or simply numbness. She wanted numbness. She wanted to feel nothing, especially not this shattering anguish. But, she would not sit here and give up…not if there was the slightest hope that, somehow, Wyatt was right and they could change this. She took one last look at Dante.

She kissed him good-bye.

Then she picked up her weapon and followed Wyatt and Lyle to the vortex.

Angie did not look back. She didn't have to. She felt it in her soul the moment that Dante's lax hands slipped from Guy and Maynard's hands. She felt it in her soul the moment that his shallow breaths stopped.

Then, she stepped through the portal and, for a few merciful seconds, she finally felt nothing at all.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: See Chapter One._

_Note: Yeah, like I was really going to end the story like _that_! Thanks for sticking with me this far, folks. You rock. But, it's time to wrap this one up._

11

_September 30, 2011_

The tranquility was unnerving.

They stepped from the vortex onto a perfectly paved street winding past houses intact where families went about their daily routines in blissful ignorance of the future from which the trio had just escaped. The unfamiliar warmth of the sun, no longer blocked by a dome of unnatural energy, touched their skin almost like a welcoming caress. The breeze no longer carried the scent of sulfur, dust, and decay to burn their noses and throats. Birds chirped in the trees. Bikes rolled past. Cars tooted their horns until the teenagers broke out of their stupor and remembered to get out of the street.

Angie and Lyle paused for a long moment, staring at the Daventry Hills that was alien to them now in something like shock. They should have been happy to see it. They had fought, suffered, and sacrificed to see it again. However, standing there now-filthy, bloodied, battle-scarred, and carrying weapons from battles that had yet to be fought in a future that had yet to be-joy was the farthest thing from their hearts.

Wyatt was the first to snap from his stupor. He checked the chronometer to confirm they'd landed on September 30, one year earlier. His quiet voice broke the silence. "This is the right day. The chronometer's lit up, that means the Doublebacks are definitely here."

Lyle blinked, pulling himself out of his own grim memories. He managed to nod at Wyatt in acknowledgement. "We're going to have to take them at the same time. That means we have to split up."

Angie didn't say a word. Her gaze was drawn, unwillingly, to the blood staining her hands and clothing, blending with the fainter red paint on the Chameleomole skin. She remembered warm hands putting that paint on her skin for the first time months ago. She thought about those hands caressing her cheek, thought about arms holding her and comforting her on too many despair-plagued nights to count. She remembered his hands, covered in his own blood, slipping from her grasp as she was dragged into the time vortex.

One last tear rolled down her dirt-streaked face, and then the tears stopped. The cold numbness that had held her in its icy grip gave way to the first bubbles of pure fury. Her fingers reached for the wedge-shaped weapon hanging at her side, grasping it so hard her knuckles turned white and the edges bit into her skin.

Lyle and Wyatt saw her expression, the look in her eyes. Lyle understood it best. For the past few months, any time he had caught his reflection in a pool of water or a piece of metal, his image had stared back at him with the same haunted gaze.

Sympathetically, he reached for her shoulder, "Angie—", but the girl moved aside too quickly. She didn't want sympathy. She didn't want platitudes. She didn't want consolation. Without a word, Angie spun on her heel and was running in the direction of the vice-principal's house.

_The first Doubleback would be there, setting its trap to frame Dante. That Doubleback was hers_.

Wyatt called after her, "Angie?" She didn't answer, and neither he nor Lyle was foolish enough to try to stop her. "I guess she's taking Storm's house. You want to back her up?"

Lyle shook his head. "She's not going to _need_ back-up. But it's going to take two of us to get to the second Doubleback. We'll head to the stadium."

"You have any idea how we're going to bard that Doubleback in front of a stadium full of people?" The high school football field was Lyle's home turf, Wyatt reasoned. He would know the best way to try to bard a Leak that was hiding under the noses of hundreds of spectators.

"Believe me, I have all kinds of plans for that cramp."

Angie felt some small satisfaction that the monster—despite its robotic appearance-startled when the Atomic Wedge shattered Storm's living room door. She regretted that the Doubleback didn't have a face. She wanted to see fear in its eyes. She wanted to know it saw the rage in her eyes. She wanted to know that it knew she wasn't going to simply 'bard' it. 'Bard' was too delicate a word for what Angie had in mind.

She was going to kill it.

The Doubleback could not give her that satisfaction. It stood there dumbly with its blank, mechanical face staring at her as she caught it in mid-preparation to set Storm's house ablaze and frame Dante for the crime.

"You rat cramp bastard," she snarled.

The Doubleback might have been surprised by the girl, but it faltered only for a split-second. Its robotic mind detected the weapon in her hand, perceived the threat, and reacted. Its smooth fingers retracted into its arm, replaced by sharp blades. As it raised the weapons to strike, Angie threw the Atomic Wedge.

The monster dodged. The weapon arched around, taking down several framed pictures and Hummel figurines before it returned to Angie. She didn't care about the breakage. If Wyatt's plan worked, the damage would be undone when the timeline reset itself. If it failed, a few broken picture frames would be the least of Storm's problems.

The Doubleback advanced, swiping at her torso with its finger blades. This time, she dodged. The creature kept within arm's length of the girl, not giving her room to throw the wedge again. Angie smiled grimly, perfectly happy to switch tactics and use Krav Maga instead. It suited her all-consuming need to tear the automaton apart with her bare hands.

Wielding the Atomic Wedge like a club, she assailed the monster with a flurry of kicks and punches. It was like hitting a robot, and pain lanced her hands each time they impacted its metal body. She used the wedge to hold the arm and its blades at bay while she struck at the Doubleback again and again. She wondered if it even felt pain. She hoped it did.

She barely felt it when the creature occasionally landed a blow against her in return. It didn't so much as slow her down. She lashed at the monster with the force of all the grief and loss that ripped her heart to pieces. _It was this bastard's fault-this one and every other one of Maldark's computer-spawned goons. It was their fault her world was conquered, that her life had been shattered. It was their fault she never got to see her family again… _

Her eyes narrowed at the Doubleback.

_It's your fault that Dante's dead,_ Angie cursed it inwardly.

Uttering a cry of fury, she gripped the Doubleback by its neck and shoved it, face-first, into the bricks of the fireplace hearth. This time, the automaton let out a robotic noise Angie chose to interpret as distress. The monster reeled, shaking its head, trying to recalibrate the circuits she had just knocked loose in her attack.

When Angie raised her wedge to slice off its bloodless, mechanical head, she only hoped it hurt like a bitch.

The Doubleback's decapitated form vanished in a flash of sparks, leaving her alone in the stillness of the living room.

Left with nothing left upon which to vent her grief, the numbness slowly poured into her anew.

She didn't know how much time she had before Wyatt and Lyle barded the second Doubleback, and she doesn't know what would to happen after they did. Her timeline would cease to exist. One year from now, give or take, Never Fail would thwart Maldark's invasion. She would wink out of existence, but the other Angie, her younger incarnation who was running around somewhere out there right now, would go on. She would never have to face the horrors of an earth dominated by Maldark. She'd be with her family, where she belonged. Dante would be there. He would be alive and back with his mom, where he belonged. Wyatt and Lyle and their families would be there with them.

She wondered if it completely warped that she felt a twinge of jealousy of that Angie.

_What was taking so long_? She growled in frustration. She was ready for the end…it was the seconds waiting with nothing but grief for company that was driving her mad.

Then, she heard a familiar sound coming from outside…the crunch of skateboard wheels grinding along the sidewalk.

Angie ran to the window in time to see that other Dante roll past Storm's house on his skateboard. A lump suddenly lodged in her throat, made it hard to breathe. He looked very different. Younger. It wasn't just physical, though he was a year younger than the Dante she knew. It was…well, 'innocence' was not the right word. He never looked innocent. She still saw hints of the Dante who led the Grinders and helped her save half of Daventry Hills, of _her_ Dante. However, like the other Angie, this Dante would not have all the suffering Maldark had caused to add the haunted shadows to his eyes. This one was alive and well and oblivious to her presence as she watched him pass.

Angie smiled anyway.

Dante barely gave Storm's house a passing glance out the corner of his eye as he skated past the place. He just hoped the old guy wasn't there to come outside and yell at him about skateboarding on the sidewalk. The man was completely psycho like that. Dante had his fill of adults yelling today after listening to his parents fighting all morning.

He'd finally climbed out his bedroom window-not that they would have noticed if he'd walked out the front door while they stood there—seeking escape. He was now distracting himself by playing with the new Cobra cell phone/game system that Barbra had warned him not to buy under penalty of a month of being grounded.

In that quick, sidelong glance, Dante thought he caught a glimpse of someone standing at the living room window…someone dressed like an outcast from Comic Con. He thought he saw the front door hanging off broken hinges.

Curious, he stopped and took a second look. It must have been his imagination. The door was intact, and whoever or whatever he'd seen in the window was gone.

It was a creature created for a singular purpose: Alter history in favor of its master by whatever means were required. After its task was complete, it would cease to exist. The robot avatar had no emotions to feel regret for the brevity of its existence or contentment when its purpose was finally accomplished.

The Doubleback had been programmed with the whole of Maldark's knowledge of its targets, Black Death, Wizza, and Sir Bickle. Its orders were simple: Using that knowledge, choose one target. Kill that human, if possible. If not, a permanent injury, an incarceration, an abduction, whatever was required to prevent the human from interfering with Maldark's plans to invade the human realm. Never Fail must never exist.

The human known as 'Black Death' was out of reach. A scan of his "blog" indicated he was two hundred miles away competing in something the humans called a 'Mathcathelon'. Traveling such a distance increased the risk of interference with its mission.

The Doubleback's counterpart had already tracked the human known as 'Sir Bickle' and would dispatch that game warrior.

The human called 'Wizza' was within reach. He would be the robot's target.

A disguise afforded the best chance for catching its target unaware while concealing its presence from the larger human population. It was not capable of caring if the people saw its true form, except that it might create a disturbance that would jeopardize the Doubleback's mission.

The humans took no undue notice of the last player in the Crosstown High line up as the football team ran onto the Trojans' football field. The helmet covered its shiny metallic head. The long sleeves and gloves hid its mechanical arms and hands. It scanned the faces of the rival players until it locked onto the one it sought.

_Wizza_.

The Doubleback lined up opposite the human boy, ducking its head so that Wizza would not see his face until it was much too late. Wizza took his place as what they called the 'quarterback'. The game leak targeted the areas of the human's body most vulnerable to lasting injury and decided it would shatter Wizza's knee. Such an injury would take sufficient time to heal that he would never recover in time to interfere with Maldark.

Before the ball was snapped into play, the Doubleback lunged, slamming into the human-or rather, trying to, for Wizza anticipated the attack and feinted aside. Unable to halt its momentum, the Doubleback tumbled to the ground.

It was an eerie feeling to walk onto the field, to relive this fateful day once again. Every detail was exactly as Lyle remembered, and he'd remembered almost every day since the Doubleback smashed his knee and-so Lyle had thought at the time-his life. Every good-natured insult that his teammates tossed at each other as they took the field was the same. The marching band still played, horrendously out of tempo. Reggie greeted Lyle with the usual handshake and slug to the arm. McCobb sat on the players' bench, waiting for time on the field he would probably never receive.

"McCobb!" Lyle shouted to him.

Mike reluctantly turned, anticipating another insult or some gloating from the quarterback.

"Got the Washburn War Horses next week. I told the coach you own their QB, if you feel like starting against them," Lyle said.

It was debatable whether Mike or Reggie looked more shocked by this. When Mike saw that Hugginson wasn't messing with him, he nearly fell off the bench from surprise.

Lyle nodded to himself, satisfied. _That took care of one mistake, but Lyle had another score to settle._

When he glanced towards the bleachers, his father was there, cheering with the rest of the crowd. Lyle paused to wave at his father. Maynard Hugginson raised an eyebrow, for his son was normally too focused upon the game and didn't speak to him until afterwards, but he pumped his fist in the air and shouted encouragement with the other spectators.

This time, Lyle watched the mystery player as he trailed the rest of the Crosstown Team onto the field. Watching now, with the benefit of hindsight, it was easy to tell that the player's gait was stiff and unnatural, that he kept his head held low and had bundled himself in cold-weather gear on a balmy September afternoon.

It was easy to tell that the player was not human.

Easy if you were a game warrior and a once and future defender of Earth, that is.

This time, when the Doubleback jumped from the formation and came at him, Lyle was ready and dodged easily. The crowd booed for the rival player's cheap shot and the Crosstown High team shouted angrily at what they thought was their own player.

Lyle stood over the Doubleback, glaring down at it, furious for all the damage this mechanical cramp and his mutant pals had caused. "Time for some payback, Doubleback."

It had no face, so it was impossible to tell if the creature was perplexed, scared, or if it felt anything at all. Lyle wished it were capable of being afraid, for he wanted nothing so much as to put the fear of God into the creature and send it crying home to Maldark. He'd have to settle with barding it. Somehow, that didn't seem good enough.

The Doubleback jumped to its feet and ran. Lyle chased after it, leaving the confused team and spectators behind.

"Hugginson! Where are you going?!" the coach shouted after him. "McCobb, get in there!"

Wyatt, meanwhile, had the younger Lyle trapped in the team's locker room. Past Lyle was banging on the door, shouting threats and questions at whoever had locked him in. Wyatt leaned against the door, which he'd barred by shoving a field hockey stick through the handles.

He kept up a non-stop monolog both to apologize to his future friend and to drown out Past Lyle's shouts if anyone should stray into the locker area. "Once again, I'm very sorry about this. I know this seems very, very crazy, but if I have to explain-well, anyway, you'll just have to believe me when I say it's for the best and everything will turn out fine, and I'm very sorry and I apologize unreservedly and hope one day you'll forgive this-"

Past Lyle's muffled voice demanded: "Who is that? McCobb? Is that you? Kowalski? Wanda?"

"_Wanda_? Are you kidd—" Wyatt turned to give his friend on the opposite side of the locker room door the stink eye (even if he couldn't see it), offended.

The pounding of feet-someone very large and heavy and clanging like metal-drew his attention to the task at hand. He picked up Future Lyle's Thunder Pole and waited. Seconds later, the Doubleback appeared, pounding down the hallway with Future Lyle not far behind. "Head's up!" Future Lyle shouted.

Wyatt was more than ready. With a sweep of the staff, he tripped the mechanical avatar as it tried to run past him. It fell with a clang Wyatt hoped no one overheard. Future Lyle was on the thing instantly, using his helmet to crack the game leak in its shiny head. He didn't want to bard the thing immediately. Blasting it would end this too quickly, and this was too personal.

"_That's_ for smashing my knee!" Future Lyle snarled at the faceless creature. He struck it with the helmet again. "That's for my dad!"

The faceless avatar couldn't even grant Lyle the satisfaction of looking afraid or remorseful. With a growl of frustration, Future Lyle snatched the Thunder Pole out of Wyatt's hands and aimed for the metal man. "This is for Dante! _Vescor_!"

The Thunder Pole conjured a giant mouth that swallowed the Doubleback in one gulp.

Future Lyle gave a grim, but genuine, smile. He could get to enjoy barding these guys now that his family and his friends would be safe and Daventry Hills was back to normal. Again, he felt a pang of envy for the Lyle who would get to stay and be part of Never Fail…

…the Lyle who was banging on the locker room door and shouting threats of what he'd do if someone didn't let him out that very minute.

Wyatt pulled the hockey stick out of the door handles, giving Future Lyle a quick warning before he opened the doors: "Hide."

Future Lyle ducked around the corner, turning his face towards the wall as Wyatt let his younger self out of the locker room.

Past Lyle gave Wyatt a dirty look as he pulled on his helmet and ran for the football field. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" he scolded.

Wyatt waved lamely, calling after Past Lyle: "Again, sorry!"

Future Lyle stared after his counterpart. His/their father and the coach waited when Past Lyle returned to the field. Future Lyle imagined they were having one confusing conversation.

"So, what do you think happens now?" he asked Wyatt.

"Well, if Angie's barded that second Doubleback, the timeline should correct itself. Kind of a ripple effect…it might take a few seconds for the ripples to affect us. After that…" Wyatt trailed off. Intent on stopping the Doublebacks and fixing the timeline, neither one had stopped to wonder what would happen after they succeeded.

"Guess this is goodbye, man." He shook Wyatt's hand. "Just make sure Maldark doesn't get out of the game again."

Wyatt nodded. "Count on it-Never Fail never fails."

Lyle rolled his eyes at the pun, but told him, "Yeah. I would've liked to be part of that."

"You were…" Wyatt paused, suddenly feeling strange. _Something was definitely happening_. The blood that stained his clothes faded and disappeared. _Yes!_ He cheered inwardly. He stared down at the chronometer in his hand. The counter began spinning wildly…and then the device vanished altogether. "Wonder if I'll end up back where I started after the Doublebacks are gone. 'Cause I really don't want to hang around here for a year waiting for everyone else to catch up-"

Wyatt looked up; Future Lyle was gone.

"L-" Wyatt didn't finish the word before the world whited out. When the flash of light faded, Wyatt was standing back in the park where the whole mess had started. There were no signs of portals or purple domes or Doublebacks anywhere. _Thank God_. His watch even read the precise date and time when the time vortex had first appeared.

_He was home_.

Wyatt had to make sure. He turned and ran back to Never Fail's warehouse HQ.

Even running, it took almost a half hour to get there. It was an agonizing length of time when Wyatt's mind played out every awful possibility: What if the timeline wasn't precisely as it had been? What if Maldark had sent another leak after Dante and Angie after Wyatt had disappeared into the time vortex? Would they have been able to defend themselves while glued together? Memories of grunge and burns and blood still filled Wyatt's mind. He wondered if his memories of that awful future would disappear along with that timeline or if the lingering effects of the chronometer meant that he'd be able to remember it for the rest of his life. He wasn't sure he wanted to keep those memories.

He'd called Lyle already, who had not a clue why his friend was calling 'just to be sure he was there' and was even more baffled when Wyatt asked if Mr. Hugginson was also there. Wyatt had promised to explain everything the next morning.

Wyatt had worked himself into a fairly good panic by the time he banged open the warehouse door and ran inside, yelling Dante and Angie's names.

"Wake him up and I'll punch you so hard you'll see little cartoon stars," Angie warned.

Dante and Angie were there, alive and well and free of Chameleomole skin grafts and battle scars…but still glued together at their arms.

They obviously couldn't go home in their current predicament. They'd tried nail polish remover and every other kind of solvent in the room, but nothing man-made was going to affect game leak glue. Angie had argued with Dante three different times to convince him not to chew off his own arm like a wolf getting out of a trap. Finally, they'd resigned themselves that they were going to have to stay there for the night and wait for Wyatt to unglue them in the morning.

The remainder of their time had been devoted to plotting their revenge on the Wyatt, convincing their families that they were having sleep overs at friends' houses, and figuring out how they were going to sleep while stuck together. The only options were to either both sleep on their backs or stomachs or to sleep on the couch together, back-to-back or face-to-face.

So it was that Wyatt found them. Dante had won the couch and was sleeping on his back. Angie was trying to sleep while sitting on the floor with her back against the couch and her glued arm propped up on the cushions.

However, she had the consolation of stealing his new Cobra 4.0 phone—which she still felt should have been hers anyway-when he fell asleep. Grinning to herself at her victory, she was passing time playing with the phone, deliberating tugging on Dante's arm when she moves her own arm. It still didn't wake him.

Angie gave Wyatt the Glare of Death when he rushed into the room.

Wyatt tried not to grin. "How'd this happen?"

"He snores if he doesn't sleep on his back-yet another thing I did not need to know about him. Are you seriously going to leave us stuck like this all night?" Angie asked.

He was just overjoyed that they were alive to bicker. He wanted to unglue them, to hug both of them senseless, but that would have tipped them off that something was wrong. Plus, Dante would no doubt pin him down while Angie pummeled him into surrendering the Rubber/Glue gun. Wyatt wouldn't begin to know how to explain everything that happened, especially not without making things weird(er) between Dante and Angie.

So, until he could think of the best way to tell them the story, he offered her his best lecture tone and reminded her: "You mess with barded booty, you accept the consequences."

Angie arched her eyebrow. "You mess with _me_, you accept the consequences."

Wyatt was appropriately contrite. "Yeah, I know."

He threw her a blanket that had been left from the group's last sleepover at their headquarters. She wrapped it around herself as best she could with one arm stuck to Dante and grinned in evil satisfaction when the corner smacked him in the face. It didn't wake him…but for some reason, it started him snoring again (even louder than before).

Angie groaned. "Super." She went back to fiddling with the cell phone, pointedly not speaking to Wyatt.

Wyatt watched her for a few seconds. Out of the blue, he suggested: "You should start up a game avatar."

"I already said 'no'," she reminded him.

"Whatever. I just think you'd kick serious avatar butt." He turned toward the door, but paused to add one more thing. "You know, some gamers take their names from other languages. Did you know 'Kutisha' and 'Mahtava' mean 'awesome'?"

Angie didn't look up from her phone. "Yeah, fascinating. What's the gamer name for 'cramp who won't unglue me'?"

"Insults will not get you unglued," he said.

"How about if I hit you with my shoe? Will that help?"

"Goodnight, Angie." This time, as he headed out the door, Wyatt did grin. He shut off the lights on his way out, just to yank her chain.

Once Wyatt was gone, Angie stashed the phone in her purse. She was exasperated, her butt was starting to ache from sitting on the cement floor, and she was seriously considering breaking into the Booty Box again and using the Sword of Antiperspirant to combat some of the smell coming off the boy on the couch. If she had to spend the rest of the night in this uncomfortable position, someone was going to get their ass kicked in the morning.

She sighed. _The hell with it._

Angie elbowed Dante onto his side as she squeezed into the small space that opened on the couch. "Move over. And don't get any ideas. I've still got my Fist of Schoolage."

She couldn't see him with the lights off, but swear she could feel him grin at that.

**Epilogue**

Wyatt had shared the story of the Doublebacks, the alternate timeline, and everything that had happened during his two-days stranded there with Lyle, Dante, and Angie…save for a few omissions. For a couple of days afterwards, they all had a shared paranoia that the Doublebacks might have somehow escaped and the broken timeline might resume. Lyle had spent an entire day listening to his dad recount just about every football game of his own college career just grateful that his father was there to lecture. Angie had outright frightened her brothers by (temporarily) being nice to them. Dante had randomly checked on Barbra (just to make sure she was still there) so many times that she had finally done an unannounced bedroom check just to make sure he wasn't hiding and/or on something that would account for his odd behavior.

Lyle hadn't only gained a renewed appreciation for his family and his three closest friends; he was looking at his teammates in a different light, imagining his alternate universe self in that miserable swamp with Reggie, Mike, Kowalski, and the other Trojans and them backing up Never Fail against Maldark's psychotic game leaks.

Wyatt walked into Deckard's a few days later to find a full-blown Trojans pep rally in progress.

Lyle had gathered the team for a pre-game blowout at the diner. It had been a ritual of boasting, psyching each other up, eating lousy food, and generally venting some steam before an important game. In his distraction worrying about the importance of college recruiters, scholarships, and his father's disapproval, Lyle had almost forgotten that little things like killing an afternoon with friends were just as important.

"Okay, can I have a minute here, guys?" Lyle stood up on his seat in the corner booth, earning a look of scorn from the diner's assistant manager. "First, I have something to say to McCobb…"

Sitting at the counter, a little apart from the rest of the team, McCobb looked nervous, until Lyle grinned: "I want to say…that thanks to your wicked awesome knowledge of the Fulton High Falcons, we are going to be kicking some Falcon feathers this Friday night!"

The Team roared a mixture of whoops and insults for their rival team. Mike was surprised, but pleased…and a little startled when Reggie hooked and arm around his neck and playfully dragged him from the barstool to sit with him and Kowalski at one of the tables.

This went on for a minute or two before the commotion died down so Lyle could finish: "Seriously, I know I've kind of gotten wrapped up in my head lately. I forget that we're all anxious about the recruiters. Let me tell you, they'll be lucky to sign any one of you. There couldn't be a better team, and there's no one else I'd rather share the field of battle with."

The team cheered again, with more gusto. Lyle climbed out of the booth, leaving them to their celebrating. He caught his father's eye. Maynard Hugginson sat with Jim Peterson at the counter, both watching the quarterback's pep talk with nods of approval.

Lyle grabbed a basket of fries and went to join Wyatt at Never Fail's usual booth in the corner of the diner. He set the basket in the middle of the table and grinned at the computer geek. "Make that _almost_ no one else."

Wyatt accepted the fries. "Sounds like you're feeling better," he said as Lyle slid into the opposite seat.

Lyle did, in fact, feel better for the first time since his father had invited Coach Peterson to the upcoming game. "After hearing you tell me about the end of the world, I kind of get that not landing my first choice of colleges is not the end of the world."

"You know what they say: If you can make it in the Stenchwater Swamps, you can make it anywhere." Wyatt agreed. Lyle was like his father in many ways, and, like Maynard Hugginson, he was going to come out on top no matter where he landed. "You still haven't told your dad about UCLA?"

Lyle's answer surprised him. "Actually, I did. But, I agreed to hear what Mr. Peterson has to say about Notre Dame if he decides to recruit me."

Wyatt absently moved a french fry around a pool of ketchup. Lyle could see the guy's mental wheels turning. "All this talk about college got me thinking…" Wyatt started. "You know, about who's going to protect Daventry Hills after we graduate?"

Angie was applying for every college grant and scholarship under the sun, as if there was a chance she wouldn't get one between her high grades and her extracurricular activities. Wyatt already had his school picked out and a college fund ready to pay for it, without having to battle his parents over his choice of colleges. Lyle would be recruited, Wyatt was confident of that. Even Dante would eventually head to junior college or trade school (or the armed forces if his probation officer's threats were ever made good on). It wasn't something Wyatt had thought about until he'd seen just how bad an unchecked invasion by Maldark could be.

"We ought to start thinking about expanding our clan for after we go our separate ways," he suggested.

"Don't get into your head too much, Wyatt." Lyle didn't look worried. There would come a time to start thinking about it, but the time wasn't today. "Besides, Dante will be around for at least another two years before he passes his exit exam, so you've got a little time to think about new recruits."

He glanced up as a pair of familiar faces entered the diner. Barbra made her way through the crowd to place an order with Angie, who was working the counter. Dante followed his mom into the diner, but as soon as he spied the girl at the counter, Angie flushed bright red and Dante hid his face behind a hastily-grabbed menu and scurried over to Wyatt and Lyle's booth.

"I'm guessing you finally told them?" Lyle asked with amusement

"Yeah," Wyatt answered before their friend plopped down beside him at the table.

"Women are crazy," Dante announced, put out by the fact that he was currently on the lists of two extremely vengeful women, and all for things that were either beyond his control (like the Rubber/Glue gun accident) or things that he'd done in another timeline.

"And crazy knows crazy," Lyle said.

As it turned out, Wyatt had been wrong-the Rubber/Glue gun did not have a reverse setting. They'd spent several hours and dozens of bottles of nail polish remover, goo gone, turpentine, and anything else they could think of trying to pry Angie and Dante free of the adhesive. Finally, Lyle had used a spell. The glue had come loose…and taken a few layers of Angie and Dante's skin with it. The end result was that they were sporting matching bandages, beneath which were patches of skin that looked to have been scalded with a thick laser beam (which was, in fact, how the Thunder Pole had burned off the glue).

Dante picked at the large white bandage that covered his upper right arm. "Barbra still thinks I got a tattoo. She's taking me for a tetanus shot and a Hep B vaccine…and she grounded me! As soon as I give her the slip, I'm getting one. If I'm going to do the time, I'm going to do the crime."

Wyatt winced. "Again, sorry about the arm."

Lyle's grin was devious. "You can always tell your mom the truth: That you spent the night glued to your girlfriend from an alternate timeline all alone in our HQ. I'm sure that won't upset or concern Barbra at all."

Now, Wyatt winced _and_ his ears turned red. "And sorry about leaving you guys stuck in the warehouse all night," he apologized.

Lyle kicked Wyatt under the table. "You're dying to know what happened, admit it." He turned his attention back to Dante. "If you don't tell us what happened, we'll make something up…"

In truth, Wyatt was sure nothing had gone on at the warehouse. But, he couldn't resist joining in the teasing simply because it was driving Dante and Angie nuts. "And our imaginations are probably a million times worse than the truth."

If Dante blushed any harder, Wyatt was sure his friend would burst into flames. "You guys s-"

Whatever retort he'd been preparing ended with Dante diving under their table as Angie walked over with Wyatt's food.

Angie banged her fist on the tabletop. "You know I can still see you right?" she asked the boy hiding there. When he answered with something indecipherable, she rolled her eyes and returned to the counter. He couldn't hide from her for long.

"They're still a little weirded out," Wyatt observed.

Lyle sobered a bit. In truth, Wyatt's recount of all that had happened in the alternate timeline still chilled him to his core. Despite the fact that the timeline had been corrected, Lyle still felt indebted to his eccentric friend for saving his dad's life in any universe. He supposed he should start repaying Dante by laying off the torture about the glue gun incident and alternate universe relationships.

For now.

Still, Lyle couldn't resist asking Wyatt: "Seriously, how freaked out were you seeing them as a couple?"

"Let's just say the Vampire-Zombie couple in _Nearly Dusk _is no longer the most disturbing couple I've seen…" Wyatt turned his head as he heard the sound of a female giggling nearby. "…and not as freaked out as you're going to be if _they_ hook up."

He nodded to the counter. Lyle followed his gaze to see that his father and Dante's mother were deep in a conversation…and laughing. Jim Peterson had disappeared somewhere. His father had said something that made Barbra laugh. She said something back that caught him off-guard, Lyle could tell. His father always raised one eyebrow when he was laughing sincerely at something…_was he flirting with her_?

Lyle's stomach did a nervous flip-flop. "Oh, no…"

"What? What am I missing?" Dante crawled out from under the table-the table at the adjoining booth, much to the surprise of the group sitting there. He scanned the room to see what had attracted Wyatt and Lyle's attention.

Lyle and Dante gaped at their parents.

"Wait, what's happening there? Did he just suck in his stomach?" Lyle asked, shocked.

Dante was just as horrified. "Did she just do that hair fwip thing and giggle?"

Wyatt hid his smile. "Yep, they're into each other. No doubt about it. Don't worry, though, I'm sure it'll be great for both of you to have a new step-brother. Barbra can make her soy sauce surprise for breakfast every morning. You and Dante can have matching twin beds, and he can keep his dead skin collection on the shelf by your football trophies."

Not wanting to leave out his other best friend, Wyatt patted Dante's shoulder consolingly. "And it might score points with your probation officer to have the mayor for your step-dad. Of course, it's going to be much harder to climb out the window when you're living at Mr. Hugginson's house, with the home security system and all…not that you're going to get to sneak out much once he hires a tutor to make sure you bring your grades up. I hear he's very set on his kids attending Notre Dame…"

Lyle and Dante all but jumped from their seat, racing to the bar to intervene.

"No, no….Dad!"

"Barbra!"

Wyatt just grinned.

**Fin**


End file.
